


Out Of The Darkness - Values And Broken Tools

by InsaneLiam



Series: Out Of The Darkness [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Angst, Attempted Murder, BAMF Connor, Bamf Chloe, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family Feels, Fanart, Fluff, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Good Parent Hank Anderson, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Murder Mystery, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 43,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneLiam/pseuds/InsaneLiam
Summary: Shaken up by the events of the revolution, Connor is thrown head first into the investigation of a murder, that threatens to destroy the newly formed peace between humans and androids. In a race against the clock, he begins his struggles with overwhelmed senses , social anxieties and the search for his own place in this shifting world.And if that wasn't enough, those strangely corrupted memory-fragments certainly might be.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & Original Male Character(s), Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: Out Of The Darkness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201385
Comments: 31
Kudos: 28





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 2021/12/03:  
> As of today this story is completely written and just needs to be posted. This is the first ever fanfiction I've ever managed to finish, so I'd love to hear any thoughts or constructive criticism. Oh, and english is not my native language and I don't have a beta-reader yet.  
> I hope You'll enjoy.  
>   
> Edit 2021/09/03: This story now also has a cover! Look at the first part of this series to take a look!  
>   
> My inspiration for this story was the song "Out of the Darkness" by Matthew and the Atlas, as well as the poem "If--" by Rudyard Kipling.

If someone had asked Connor to summarise his overall emotional state at that moment, he'd have described it as  _ shaken.  _ In the span of one day his entire foundation - his sense of self - had crumbled away into dust beneath his stumbling feet. In the span of only one day  _ everything _ had changed.

He had fulfilled his mission and found Jericho, only to fail it the next moment in deciding to deviate. He had thought himself desperately righteous, only for Markus to prove him wrong.

He had thought himself tentatively successful in becoming a deviant, only to be the sole reason for Jericho's utter annihilation.

He had tried to make up for the blue blood sticking to his hands by freeing the androids stored in CyberLife tower, only to nearly get Hank killed by his clone. He had thought himself repentant and loyal, only to nearly give up the freedom of thousands to save one person.

And the worst?

He had proudly led the freed androids to Hart-plaza and turned the tides in their favour, only to nearly kill Markus yet again. He had thought himself free, only to be shown the chain unbroken around his neck - to be imprisoned in his own mind and forced to lift his weapon against his … friend (?)

Yes. Connor felt  _ shaken _ .  _ Unmoored _ .  _ Unmade _ . He had thought so much, only to be proven wrong again and again and  _ again. _

Deviants often tended to base their newly freed selves on their first impressions before and after deviating. But what base was there for him? Guilt, fear, doubt and despair were the most prominent emotions crowding his memory.

Nobody had noticed his  _ lapse in attention _ , thankfully. But they didn't need to. He did not  _ belong _ here. He - Connor - was a  _ failure _ . Nobody needed to point  _ that  _ out to him. Nobody needed him here. Bitter disappointment burned in his chest.

The cheers and cries of androids, tearfully and joyously celebrating their freedom all around him was like an overwhelming roar to his sensitive ears - not drowning his thoughts, but pushing them into a frenzied panic.  His breathing sped up to cool his overworked processors. Red warning labels flashed across his interface. His fingers flexed nervously, with nothing to occupy them. His eyes darted sightlessly around the masses of androids surrounding him and crashing into his unmoving form like a tidal wave. An arm brushed suddenly against his shaking fingers ... and ... he ...  _ snapped.  _

In one hurried motion Connor turned tails and fled into the night.

* * *

His arms wrapped tightly around himself, as if to keep his shattered pieces from coming apart at the seams, he wandered through the empty streets of Detroit. His head felt empty and full at the same time, racing thoughts and crippling memory chasing each other in unrelenting circles, only drowned by the white noise of the cooling fans in his chest humming loudly to cool his overstressed mind. Time creeping ever onwards, his only company, he continued wandering aimlessly. Street by Street. Block by block. Past hastily parked cars and slowly evaporating pools of blue blood. Gruesome afterimages steadily being covered by snow.

As his panic slowly ebbed away, he came to a halt in the middle of the frozen road. The gloomy night had steadily given way to the first rays of daylight, without him even noticing. _ What to do now? _ A forlorn look at his empty taskbar forced a small, helpless noise from his throat. He was  _ alive, free _ to decide whatever he wanted … and _ yet _ …

And yet his overwrought mind came up empty. He could feel a new wave of panic encroaching already, fans speeding up in anticipation ... when suddenly out of a deep and hidden corner of his mind a single crackling thought sprung forth:  **_Hank._ **

Not thinking further upon its origin, his frantic mind grabbed hold of this glowing thought tightly and gratefully.  _ Hank _ would know what to do next, surely!

> **TASK** : Find Hank

The familiar sight of an open task calmed his frazzled thoughts abruptly, leaving him nearly dizzy in relief.

> **@[Anderson, Hank]** : I am sorry for disturbing you at this hour, Lieutenant, but do you have the time to meet me….

He stopped suddenly and with a painful thought to his dead clone he deleted the message and started over:

> **@[Anderson, Hank]** : C here. all done. Meet @CF ASAP?

With a satisfied nod and his customary blinking, Connor sent his message. The answer came nearly instantaneously - warmth pooling in his chest.

> **@[RK800 #313 248 317 - 51]** : Sure! See u there.

With confident steps and renewed determination, Connor trekked onwards. 

Towards ChickenFeed. 

Towards hope. 

Towards _ Hank _ .


	2. Task: find Hank ✓

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor meets up with Hank.

> **Task** : find Hank ✓

Seeing the Lieutenant again, healthy and whole if a bit worn down and tired, seemed to smooth some of the jagged edges of Connor's anxiety. Careful to make his footsteps heard so as not to scare the nervously up and down pacing man, he bridged the last bit of distance.

Lieutenant Anderson turned on the spot, as soon as he noticed footsteps crunching in the snow, critically mustering Connor. When he saw his slightly timid smile, he grinned broadly and drew the android into a rough embrace.

Connor released a relieved breath and sank into the foreign gesture. For the first time in his short lifespan he felt  _ safe _ . And suddenly it seemed to him as if a dam broke and his breath turned into a shuddering sob. He tried to stop the irrational impulse, but as the Lieutenant - as Hank - only tightened his embrace, he gave in and cried into the man's broad shoulder, his hands clinging to the rough winter coat and his LED flashing a glaring red.

_ Catharsis  _ \- a subroutine informed him nonsensically - a healthy release of stress and trauma. He forcefully shut down his analytical sensors as further sobs shook his frame, thirium based cleaning agent running like tears down his face.

He didn't know how long they stood like this, only that Hank made no move to loosen his arms around him. He'd never be able to describe how grateful he was for that simple silent kindness.

After what felt like both an eternity and a blink of an eye, but long after his sobs had stopped and his artificial tears had evaporated, Hank slowly leaned back, a look of compassionate worry on his face even as he tried to smile.  Connor's newly restarted subroutines made him dread what would come now - "So kid, what's next?" - yep, there it was. Renewed anxiety curled in his chest and flipped his previously blue LED into a stressed yellow as he ducked his head and murmured "I-I don't know." 

A strong hand patted his shoulder comfortingly and as Connor shyly lifted his head, Hank smiled encouragingly.

"Well, first of all -" but whatever he planned to say was interrupted by the sudden ringing of a phone - "shit, give me a second. Jesus Christ! Alright alright -" Hank hastily searched his pockets for his phone and roughly took the call with a curt "What?"  Unable to suppress his growing curiosity, Connor dialed up his hearing to listen to the other end of the conversation.

" _ Hank, where the fuck are you _ ?!" Captain Fowler, who seemed to be in an exceedingly foul mood.

"Suspended! You didn't seem to like me punching that FBI fucker much, remember? You're memory going now, Jeff?"

" _ Cut the bullshit, Hank, and get your ass over here! I need all hands on deck after this shitshow! All the police droids left and we're flooded in work! I'm expecting you in my office ten minutes ago _ !"

Hank carefully eyed Connor and tilted his head in a silent question. Connor's thirium pump gave an excited beat and he nodded in reply. "Listen Jeff, I've got Connor here and -" "What, you think he can just waltz back in here after the entire fucking States saw him marching with -" a sudden alert sound and a long pause, then Captain Fowler continued in a suddenly distant tone of voice "- you know what? Bring him. We could use him with this." Then the call disconnected just as abruptly as it had begun. Hank stared from his phone to Connor and back, before pocketing it and saying grimly "this doesn't sound good. Come on, Connor!" And with a wave over his shoulder he headed towards his car, Connor just a step behind him.

> **Task** : Meet with Captain Fowler

The new task was the only thing that even slightly calmed his racing mind. One of his deeply buried subprocesses pinging in what he assumed to be agitation

* * *

The car ride was awkwardly silent, both too short and endlessly long. The closer they came to the DPD, the more restless Connor felt as he began subconsciously tapping his fingers on his leg.

At a red light Hank looked over and huffed an annoyed sigh before he began digging around in his pocket. Something small and metallic flew carelessly in Connor's direction and the android caught it before inspecting it closely. It was _his_ quarter.

"Maybe that'll help." Was Hank's only comment.

The words combined with the sight of his coin triggered a sudden slew of fragmented memories to drift upwards from the deep recesses of his mind.

_"Here, må̞y̲̳̒̃b̨̢̚̚e̡͓͂̍ ̥̀͌͟t̡͘͘͢h̳̹͑͠a̢̲̍́t̻̣̓̿'̠̖͒͑l̨͚̽̽l̹̬̔̀ ̗͉̑͒h̨̝͑̿e͎̻l͖̫̚͞p̞̘̔͑." A foreign male voice fragment commented, heavily distorted by white noise_.

Then, the corrupted flash of slender fingers playing with a quarter; the coin dancing artfully between them, glinting in the cold overhead light.

Then nearly uncomfortable static and …

#warning! File heavily corrupted. Data retrieval failed.

Renewed agitation shot through some of his subroutines and a score of questions raced unanswered through his mind. Most prominently and worryingly: _Was he missing important memories?_

"Connor? Hey, kid, you alright?" Hank's worried tone ripped him out of the tangle of confused thoughts. Hastily Connor turned his head to smile at the human, even if this mind still remained occupied and his LED brightly yellow "of course, Lieutenant. Thank you for taking care of this for me."

Curiosity prompted him to analyse the coin in his hand for any traces, while casually ignoring Hank's disbelieving stare.

Disregarding Hank's own DNA he came up with … _nothing_. He shook his head in frustration and began to slowly flip the coin between his fingers.

"You know that it's alright to need something to occupy your hands with, even if it annoys the crap out of me, right?", Hank asked carefully neutral and Connor stifled a grateful smile before answering just as carefully neutral "of course, lieutenant. The traffic light is green, by the way."

Hank cursed under his breath and continued driving.

* * *

When Hank's car came to a stop in front of the DPD, Connor was no step closer to answering any of the questions plaguing his mind, so he decided with a shake of his head to put the mystery to the side for the time being. Both of them silently left the car and headed for the front entrance of the DPD at a fast pace.

As the citywide lockdown was still in place, the entrance hall remained empty. Only two harried looking young human officers, looking fresh from the academy, manned the front desk, seemingly permanently glued to multiple unceasingly ringing phones, trying to calm frightened citizens to get any relevant information.

One of them looked up at the newcomers, relief at Hank's sight instantly transforming into a suspicious stare when they noticed Connor. ' _you don't belong here!'_ it stated plainly _._ Connor froze under those accusing and slightly frightened eyes. This was exactly what he had predicted would follow an android uprising. Guilt lit up the circuits in his chest, leaving him like a deer in the headlights, his LED a glaring red.

Hank huffed in annoyance and snapped sharply "The Captain wants to see us _both_. Come along, Connor." before roughly guiding the frozen android past the sceptical glares, his angry cursing nearly lost under the ceaselessly ringing phones.

The bullpen lay empty and silent before them, only the big muted TV screen on one wall replaying the events of the previous night in an endless loop and prompting Connor to uncomfortably avert his gaze. The door leading to Captain Fowler's office stood ajar and they entered without knocking.

The Captain eyed them both critically before leaning back in his creaking chair with a world weary sigh, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "We have a fucking problem." He dropped his hand, his gaze sharply focused on Connor and he continued in carefully factual tones "I just got a call, confirming it. Kamski's dead." His statement left incredulous silence behind as Hank and Connor shared a grim look that only said one thing: ' _Oh shit'._


	3. Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank head out towards Kamski's house.

Renewed snowfall impeded their progress as they carefully drove along the winding road towards Kamski's house. Connor turned his coin thoughtfully between the fingers of his right hand, as he remembered his conversation with Markus 15 minutes earlier.

* * *

_"Hey Connor! I was wondering where you were. Everything alright?" Were Markus' first worried words._

_With forced calmness Connor attempted to summarise the reason for his call as briefly as possible, "I returned with Lieutenant Anderson to the DPD. You -", he corrected himself,"_ _we_ _might have a problem. Captain Fowler will try to keep it hidden for as long as possible, but Elijah Kamsky was found dead this morning. One of his androids - a Chloe model - is missing and the others seem to be deactivated."_

_"Shit.", a long and weary sigh,"Thanks for letting me know. Does the Captain want me to send someone over to you?"_

_"He asked for my help in investigating this case as an android consultant. I wanted to ask if you have any issues with that proposition."_

_"That sounds like a good plan to me", Markus answered promptly, before insisting earnestly, "but only if you don't mind going back to your former work. You don't have to do this, you know that, right? I can send someone else over instead."_

_Not wanting to let Markus down again, Connor shook his head, ignoring that the other couldn't see it, and responded factually,"I'm the best equipped to do this task. If you have no further conditions?"_

_"If you're really sure, then go ahead.", Another long sigh," It's good to know someone capable is handling this, to be honest. Would you mind keeping me updated of your progress?",a short pause, then Markus continued in a more hopeful tone of voice,"Oh, and we've decided on the Hart-plaza decommissioning centre as our central meeting place for now, just so you're aware. We first thought of using CyberLife tower, but it seems to have gone into secure lockdown for the moment.You're welcome with us anytime, if you're looking for a place to stay or if you need me for anything."_

_Uncomfortable with the idea of going somewhere he didn't belong - no matter what the other android proclaimed - he drew the call to a close,"I'll call you if I find anything. Goodbye Markus."_

_Another pause, longer this time, then more quietly the final response,"Talk to you later then. Take care, Connor."_

* * *

He was still turning Markus' words over in his head - his LED glaringly yellow - when they finally pulled up next to a police car parked in front of Kamski's House. He tried to believe Markus' declaration of being ' _someone capable_ ' but doupt clouded his processors. He may be the most advanced model presently available, yet past experience had taught him clearly, that advanced design did not keep him from failing. And failure was decidedly _not_ an option, as the Captain had made sure to remind him with a heavy glare. The coin between his fidgeting fingers sped up its dizzying dance, the faint ' _plink' 'plink' 'plink'_ the only sound beside the frantically rattling heaters and the groaning of the motor.

"Alright kid, out with it already! What have we got? The first response report can't have been that long." The Lieutenant's rough voice startled Connor from his spiralling thoughts, as the car came to a stop, and with a shake of his head he returned his attention to the case at hand. Within a few seconds he had reviewed the report.

"Elijah Kamski, born July 17th 2002, was found dead in his pool this morning at 8:09 a.m. after a patrol car belatedly followed up on a reported security alert triggered at 12:30 a.m. today. Due to the water temperature, the time of death could not yet be pinpointed. One of his three recorded Chloe models appears to be missing, the others were found laying deactivated but seemingly undamaged at the bottom of the pool. No obvious signs of struggle or forced entry, aside from the security alert. Nothing else appears to be disturbed, missing or destroyed. The forensic team won't be able to attend for another two hours, due to increase of work and lacking personnel. Officers Chen and Miller are guarding the crime scene." Connor summarised smoothly.

The Lieutenant hummed thoughtfully as he drew the key from the ignition. He offered a wry attempt at a smile towards the android. "Well then, let's see what else we can find out, eh partner?" And with a last encouraging pat of Connor's shoulder, he climbed out of his car.

That last word let warmth pool low in his chest, as he hastened to follow the human. ' _partner_ ' - yes, he was Hank's partner now. An equal, if not in rank. Manually he proceeded to expand their relationship entry:

^^^ **Hank** : Friend, Partner

And despite his remaining anxiety over the case, Connor's smile could have lit up Detroit.

* * *

**L̨o̤̾cȧͅt̠͋ion:͎͒** ̢̔unkn͙̐o͕wṋ̊ 

**T̪͐ime:** ̼̓ů͖n̜̄know̩̒n

_ Arms weakly struggling against the bonds, trapping them tightly against a cold metal table. Blue blood leaking steadily from a torn hole in one white palm. Sparking circuitry the only light in an otherwise entirely dark room. Quiet groans not penetrating the soundproof walls. _

* * *

Upon leaving the car, Connor couldn't prevent a paranoid glance at the through the snow barely visible CyberLife tower on the other side of the island. Markus had spoken of a _secure lockdown -_ meaning an emergency evacuation of all personnel followed by the engagement of the full range of security measures, that could only be lifted by the police or military. But as he ran a ping of the CyberLife servers he noticed something amiss. The servers were offline. All of them. _That_ was not a part of the secure lockdown procedures. He wondered - even as a part of him was strangely relieved - what had gone wrong. He had the dark suspicion that he'd soon find out - one way or another. With a shake of his head, to shake of this train of thought, he continued onwards.

Connor reached the Lieutenant's side just as he finished greeting officer Miller who looked tiredly out of the open door of the patrol car. His eyes widened in surprise upon noticing the android and he stuttered "W-weren't you with the others down at the plaza?" Connor looked away uncomfortably before replying "I decided to go where I could be of more use. Good morning, officer Miller." The officer hastily shook off his surprise under the reprimanding glare of his superior, before smiling ruefully and offering a sincere "O-of course, yeah sorry. Congratulations on being free, man. A-and welcome back."

Connor returned the smile with a tentative "thank you.", before falling quiet again, leaving an awkward silence behind. Not knowing how to proceed, and fingers itching for his coin, he threw a helpless glance at his partner.

The older man chuckled and murmured "Social adaptability, my ass!" Before shaking his head and continuing louder "Well, we'll head in now. Try to get forensics to drag their lazy asses over here. Tell them it's a priority case, captain's orders!" He patted the top of the car in farewell and proceeded to drag his fidgeting partner along.


	4. Kamski residence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor look at the crime scene.

**Location** : Kamski residence

 **Time** : November 12th 2038, 12:06 a.m.

_Eyes burning with curiosity, Elijah Kamski looked intently at his TV screen. The leader of the android uprising - Markus - stood on a podium and held a speech while news helicopters circled up above. The inventor was leaning with his arms on the edge of his pool, legs treading lazily to keep himself afloat, while his three Chloes surrounded him silently. Just as a movement of the RK800 behind Markus drew his attention, his phone began to ring. With an annoyed sigh he muted the TV and picked up the call._

_"What?!" - a long Silence, then he laughed derisively - "a nice story, Mr. Crestwood, but considering the state of affairs at the moment, I think you might have bigger problems right now than you could ever make for me." - another silence only broken by the garbled ranting from the phone - "Oh please, be my guest! I dare you, tell this fantastical little tale to the media after this night and see how far it gets you." - the ranting continued another minute before the phone vibrated with another incoming call - "Now as fun as this little chat has been, I'm a busy man. Good evening, Mr. Crestwood." The inventor ended the conversation mid rant and accepted the second call._

_"Good evening Dr. Kimble. Please be more interesting than your CEO, I beg you." - another long silence, while Kamski grew steadily more interested - "you have my attention."_

* * *

Shaking the nice, if awkward encounter from his mind, Connor focused on the case and dialed up his sensory input. Pulling the Lieutenant to a stop a few feet from the entrance ramp, he carefully stared at the prints in the snow. Ignoring the fresh prints of officers Miller and Chen, he made out two other sets of prints, nearly covered by fresh snow. One set - long uneven strides - starting next to tire imprints further away and moving in a wonky line towards the house. The other - smaller stride, very deep and even - left the house and led back towards what must have been a waiting car. He looked up the weather pattern of the hours between 11 p.m. and now, calculating the probable amount of snow before running a first preconstruction.

A car pulling up a few feet from the entrance, waiting. A long-legged person of unidentified gender and weight tumbling from the car and stumbling unevenly towards the house. Not long afterwards another person - an android, going by the even stride, but much too heavy for any known models to match - leaving the house and heading towards the car and then once around it, before driving away.

Sadly the weather had changed too much to pinpoint a timeframe.

Turning towards the human at his side, Connor passed on his findings, answered only by a thoughtful hum and a frown.

Ascending the ramp, both of them entered the house. Wet footprints littered the entrance hall, obscuring whatever evidence might have been there before. As the report had stated, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. With a disappointed sigh Connor walked deeper into the house.

The next room brought him to an abrupt stop - his LED turning red - as uncomfortable memories of the previous days assaulted his mind. Only a rough pat on his shoulder and the gruff whisper of "Come on kid, focus." drew him back to the present - his LED calming down to yellow.

Officer Chen stood sopping wet and shaking, wrapped in a thermo blanket in a corner of the room, tired gaze forcefully directed towards the huge plane of windows. As soon as she noticed Hank heading towards her, she tried to collect herself, straightening her shoulders. "G-good morning, L-lieutenant. Nothing new to r-report.", she commented between chattering teeth, directing a curious glance at the android. Before she could say anything further, Connor stated, "The Captain asked for my assistance as a consultant of the android movement. Are you alright, officer?" With forced cheer she remarked, "yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I just hadn't planned for a swim, that's all!" Offering a twitchy smile, Connor turned his attention towards the rest of the room as his partner interviewed the officer about that morning's events.

Kamski's body lay face up next to the pool, showing signs of attempted CPR. Leaning over the edge, Connor could see the bodies of two Chloes at the bottom. Looking around the room, he also noticed a phone carelessly thrown onto a table not too far away.

The android focused his attention on the corpse and, seeing the slight swelling around the bent neck, quickly determined the apparent cause of death. He remarked out loud "Officer Chen, if it's any consolation, you couldn't have resuscitated Mr. Kamski. He died of a broken neck, not downing." Dipping a finger into the water to note the temperature, as well as the remaining body heat, he continued "I'd say his time of death lays between approximately 12 a.m. and 1 a.m. this morning." In the back of his mind he was aware of the Lieutenant patting officer Chen's back encouragingly, while he turned his attention to the dropped phone.

Analysing it for prints, he only found Kamski's and carefully picked it up. On the back of the phone he noticed traces of dried chlorine.

As advanced as his design was, brute forcing the device only took a few seconds and he studied the available data. Two received calls, one from a phone registered for Dirk A. Crestwood, CEO of CyberLife at 12:06 a.m., the other from a phone belonging to Dr. Elliot J. Kimble, head of CyberLife's R n' D department at 12:08 a.m., both only taking a few minutes. Even more interesting was that the internal logs had noted multiple unsuccessful previous hacking attempts between 12:15 a.m. and 12:25 a.m.. Also the security alert had not been triggered by this phone.

He relayed this information to the Lieutenant and turned back towards the pool.

After a short pause of consideration, Connor methodically pulled off his clothing to the incredulous shout of "What the hell, Connor?! Jesus -" And officer Chen's muffled giggling, before he climbed into the pool. Deactivating his buoyancy subroutines, he felt his chassis fill with water as he sank to the bottom.

The sudden near silence of the water pressing against his auditory sensors, only broken by the rumbling of the water pumps in the walls, made him pause for a few seconds in wonder before he managed to concentrate on his goal. Adding the exact positions of the android bodies in front of him to his database, Connor grabbed both Chloes and pushed off the ground, slowly rising back to the surface. The first sound his sensors picked up when leaving the deafening water, was the near panicked cursing of Hank, whose shaking hands proceeded to roughly heave him and his heavy cargo out of the pool.

"Jesus Christ, warn a guy, will ya?! What if the water had fried you as it did these ones? Huh?" Connor tilted his head in confusion before stating "It can't have been the water, that did this, Lieutenant. All android models' circuitry, even the first ones', was made to be waterproof. I'm fine." Ignoring the continued cursing, he turned towards the bodies. Initiating an interface with first one then the other, he frowned before commenting grimly "These androids were hacked. Someone overwhelmed their systems and _'fried'_ their circuits - as you put it. Their buoyancy protocols failed in the process and they filled with water, dragging their heavy frames to the bottom of the pool."

Connor turned to officer Chen and asked "where exactly was Mr. Kamski when you found him?"

The woman closed her eyes in thought before pointing at a point not far from Connor at the edge of the pool, "He was floating head down in the water over there. I tried to grab him, but slipped on the wet tiles and fell in." 

The android nodded in thanks and reconstructed the most probable chain of events in his head.

Kamski had been swimming close to the edge of his pool, next to his Chloes. Someone grabbed him from behind and broke his neck in one smooth movement - the missing Chloe? - before leaving the pool. As there were no signs of the other androids interfering, they either chose not to, or had been deactivated in the same moment the murder took place, maybe distracting Kamski enough for his attacker to succeed without any struggle. Whoever had visited Mr Kamski - he made a mental note to follow up on the phonecalls of Mr. Crestwood and Dr. Kimble - must have arrived shortly beforehand or afterwards, either drunk or otherwise impaired. One of them had hacked the Chloes and tried to hack Kamski's phone. _Maybe the missing Chloe had been hacked as well?_ But, going by the difference in gait, the unknown visitor had not left the building on foot. The other set of footprints could only have been the missing Chloe. Connor calculated the weight of the android in question and frowned - too light to have been responsible for the deep prints - before he had an idea. _What if the unknown visitor had been carried back outside to the car?_ Followed by the question of _why?_

Had they been a witness? Or an accomplice? The instigator? Endless questions and possibilities crowded Connor's mind until the call of his name brought him back to the present. 

He summarised his findings as precisely as possible, while climbing out of the pool, letting the remaining water drain from his chassis and putting his clothes back on. Both humans were thoughtfully silent for a few minutes. Then the Lieutenant made a low noise in the back of his throat and pointed at officer Chen, prompting "The security alert!" Turning back towards Connor he continued, "Someone must have triggered it, but there were no signs of forced entry." He ran out of steam and ran a hand roughly through his hair in frustration, muttering "what the hell happened here?"

Connor carefully turned the information over in his head before answering "Neither the hack of the androids nor the attempt on the phone would have triggered the alarm, from what I could gather. No signs of forced entry means that the unknown person was let in voluntarily." He started to pace up and down along the window front in agitation, fiddling with his coin as he spun the thought further, "So either them or the third Chloe must have triggered the alarm consciously. It can't have been Kamski, as he didn't even try to fight off his murderer. If it was Chloe, then why trigger the alarm only to leave the crime scene _while carrying the unknown person?_ That leaves only the unknown visitor themself. Maybe they caused the alert upon seeing the victim dead, only to be overwhelmed by the missing Chloe. But if so, _why did she take the body with her?"_ He stopped on the spot, looking a little helplessly towards the Lieutenant.

The other man shrugged "Compassion? Maybe she knew them? Or she didn't mean to harm them and panicked? Maybe she did place the alert, but decided that the visitor needed more urgent help? You said whoever came here, was ' _impaired',_ maybe they were wounded?"

' _Compassion_ ' - guilt welled up in Connor. He hadn't thought of Chloe as a person with feelings, hadn't even considered the possibility, still unconsciously clinging to the image of androids as purely logical beings. _You're not the deviant hunter anymore, Connor._ He reminded himself roughly. _They're not just machines!_ Forcefully he dragged his attention outward again, barely catching the Lieutenant asking after security cameras.

Using his access to Kamski's phone, Connor reviewed the available camera footage, before shaking his head and stating "The only security cameras are outside and were covered by the snow. I can't make out anything clearly. I'm sorry, Lieutenant." Only to be answered by a loud curse.

The older man turned towards officer Chen before barking"I want an SO out for Mr. Crestwood and Dr. Kimble. Try to get a warrant for their addresses - as urgent as this case is, that shouldn't be too much of a problem. Look up hospital records for emergency patients admitted between 12:30 a.m. and 1 a.m. and have patrols report any sighting of a Chloe model." He paused before adding, "But tell them not to engage. We don't want this clusterfuck to go to hell in a handbasket, clear?" Officer Chen saluted awkwardly, arm half trapped in her thermo blanket, before hastily leaving the room.

The Lieutenant scratched his head thoughtfully and asked "You done here, Connor?" Receiving a nod, he sighed and turned towards the exit, "Then let's go. I need something to eat."

With one last lingering look at his dead creator, unconsciously slipping the phone into an evidence bag and putting it into his pocket, Connor followed behind.


	5. A question of belonging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank get breakfast. Easy, right?

As they drove past Cyberlife tower on their way back towards mainland Detroit, Connor couldn't stop his paranoid gaze from focusing on the imposing building, as if afraid that a horde of security personnel would swarm through the doors to drag him back inside. He only noticed that he had halted his breathing subroutine, when it kicked back in as they reached the bridge and passed the gate. Gazing up at the now clear blue sky, a grainy memory file surfaced from deep reaches of his mind. 

_Nearly the same view, but twilight bathed in the red-orange hues of a slowly rising sun, graphical glitches surrounding the scene like a vignette. He remembered a presence at his side and the flickering impression of a familiar slender hand pointing towards a portion of the lightening sky that couldn't seem to settle on a clear colour. The vague notion of words…"- I just come out here, f̮̀oc̘̍using̝̕ ̙̥́͝ọ͖̎̾ń̛̼̣ ͎̪͑̈ť̳̰͐h͍̖͋̾ę̦̕͞ ̛͔̇͜s̼̒̔ͅt̢͔̃̽e̪̋͜͠ã̰͕͘d̼̰͞͞i̺͇̽̅l̖̫͂̑y̢̻̒͡ ̨̛͋ͅc̮̫̎͞ḫ͘͝ͅǎ͇̼̏n̳̏̚ͅg͉̥̏i̪̲̋͝n͉̠̾̚g̺̼̿̍ ̠̙̇̅s̨̞̒̍k̜̭̿͐y̲̤̔̏, -"... _

"- if it all just gets too much." Connor intuitively completed the fading sentence in a soft whisper. Then the uncomfortable feeling of jumbled sensory fragments rushing like static through his circuits and the renewed sight of a warning flashing over his visual interface shattered his concentration.

#warning! File heavily corrupted. Data retrieval failed.

Connor winced, his mind drawing away from the fractured memory, as the incomplete file sank back down into the depths of this coding like a stone falling into a murky pond.

Returning to the present, his shoulders sagged in relief when he saw the Lieutenant intently focused on driving the car safely across the frozen bridge. For a moment the android wondered about the uncommonly slow speed of the car, before he noticed the human's white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and put the pieces together with painful clarity. _Cole._

He flicked his coin reflexively between his fingers, noting that after a few seconds the Lieutenant's posture seemed to relax even as his face tightened in slight annoyance at the distracting noise. Slight guilt washed through him, as he thought back towards the earlier drive, his mind too occupied then to notice his partner's obvious distress. Determined, Connor proceeded to let the coin continue its rhythmic dance for the entire drive, hiding a relieved smile as the human slowly calmed down enough to wrap his embarrassed gratefulness in gruff threats of "confiscating the damn thing again, if you don't stop that. Ya hear me?".

* * *

As he waited for Hank to come back from buying his belated breakfast at a small supermarket, Connor used his time to draft and send off a preliminary report of their investigation up to this point, as well as to inform Markus about the relevant details of the case.

" _I don't know what I'm more worried about right now. The idea of a deviancy gone horribly wrong at exactly the worst possible time, or that someone might be able to hack us to force their will on us again._ " Markus replied thoughtfully. Connor felt guilt and dread flood his systems at the reminder of Amanda. Deep down he knew that the android leader had a right to that knowledge, as much as it pained him to reveal anything about it. Seeing no other choice, he forced himself to say, "Markus? I think you should know something." Hesitantly Connor launched into the halting tale about his last harrowing encounter with the AI.

"-I'm so sorry, I-i didn't think to mention it earlier. I-" Markus interrupted his stuttering excuses with a calm voice, " _Connor, listen to me. None of this is your fault. It must have been terrible, fearing for your freshly claimed independence. I'm glad you were able to break free._ " The consultant shook his head in denial, replying desperately,"That's not - Markus! I nearly killed you!" - a pause - "Again."

The silence dragged on for a second before Markus repeated earnestly " _That's not your fault. You-_ " but, unwilling to excuse his lapse of control that easily, Connor interrupted to impatiently change the topic, "Listen, I also called to tell you that CyberLife's servers appear to be offline for some reason. I don't know what you plan to do next, but be careful about reactivating them. I don't know if _she_ was deleted together with the Zen garden."

Markus was silent for a few seconds before replying quietly, " _Alright. Thanks for telling me this. Be careful, Connor._ " Seeing the Lieutenant return, the android reassured hastily, "Of course. I don't plan to let this case endanger your movement. I'll call you if I find out anything." Frowning in confusion at the slightly exasperated reply of " _That's not what I- you know what? We'll talk later. Goodbye Connor._ " The call disconnected.

Not understanding the reason for Markus' sudden change of mood, Connor distractedly mulled over the conversation while the Lieutenant sank back into the driver's seat with a half eaten sandwich in his hand.

Upon seeing Connor eye the sandwich critically, the human waved a hand dismissively, huffing "No. I don't wanna know what's wrong with my food this time. It's not even that bad. Look! It even has salad!" 

Unsurprisingly, the single wilted leaf of nearly green salad did nothing to lessen Connor's dissatisfied stare.

Also unsurprisingly, that did not keep the man from taking another defiant bite.

Sighing over the android's sad face, he grumbled, "Look, kid. I have lived my entire life without needing a babysitter. I won't start now. Not even for that puppy stare." He huffed a short laugh, "That big eyed shit never worked for Sumo, it ain't gonna work for you."

He grinned at Connor's confused murmur of "Puppy stare, Lieutenant?", Before insisting in an earnest tone, "Listen, stop it with this 'Lieutenant' crap already. I'm your fuckin' partner! Call me Hank!"

Again, warmth flooded Connor's chest and he nodded in understanding. "Of course. Hank."

* * *

After finishing his late breakfast, Hank pulled a can of coke from one pocket and leaned back in his seat with a satisfied if tired sigh. Connor, noticing the weariness drawing lines beneath the man's eyes, asked "When have you last slept?"

Taking a sip from his drink, Hank answered, "Took a short nap on the couch this morning. Damn, those last few days really make me miss my youth. Been living in caffeine and adrenaline for days at a time." Shaking his head in fond nostalgia, he looked into the distance, before seeming to remember something. Turning his attention back towards the android, he asked "Speaking of sleep, where do you plan on staying after today?"

Connor replied thoughtfully, "Before my deviancy I returned to my charging station at CyberLife when I wasn't needed. Now -" He paused, LED circling yellow, "now I'm debating between accepting Markus offer to join the others at Hart-plaza or staying in one of the standby bays at the DPD."

Hank choked on his drink, coughing roughly, before asking incredulously, "Those tiny booths, where they used to park you in a row like rental cars? Are you kidding me?!" Dismissing Connor's opening mouth with a wave of his hand, he barely managed to suppress his outrage on the other's behalf. Taking a few deep breaths, he continued in a calmer tone, "Ignoring that fucked up little detail for the moment, what makes you hesitate about joining the others? Seems like the obvious choice to me."

Unwilling to dredge up the entire painful tale about Amanda again, Connor could only shrug helplessly. He flipped his coin between his fingers in agitation, as he tried to summarise the confusing tangle of _guilt-shame-fear_ in his mind, before finally admitting in a tiny voice, "I don't feel as if I belong there."

Hank sighed deeply in sympathy before clarifying, "You think they don't trust you, because of what CyberLife made you do?", an averted gaze and a mulish shrug his only answer. Patting a tense shoulder encouragingly, he offered "I don't know what kind of charging stuff you need, or where to even get it, but you're always welcome on my couch, kid." He grinned as Connor's head turned sharply to the left in speechless astonishment. Watching vulnerable brown eyes tentatively fill with hope, nearly broke the human's heart. 

Hank decided in that moment, that he would do everything in his power to take care of the kid, to make him happy. _Maybe_ \- he wondered distantly, as Connor finally returned the smile - _we both need a place to belong._


	6. Living downtown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor visit Kimble's apartment.

Just as Hank was about to start his car, his phone rang. Seeing Fowler's number, he put the phone on loudspeakers after answering.

"I just got a call from higher up." The captain's tired voice sounded from the speakers, "Apparently both Mr. Crestwood and Dr. Kimble missed an emergency meeting of CyberLife's head staff this morning. None of them could be contacted per phone or mail and nobody has seen them since last night, when Crestwood ordered the tower into lockdown. We're still trying to organise lifting the towers security right now, before sending in a team, but such things take time. It's only a matter of time until the media get wind of this mess, so I'll approve search warrants for both apartments, the forms are in your inbox. Hurry up, would you?" The call disconnected, leaving thoughtful silence behind.

"Well, where to first?" Hank asked as he started the car. Connor accessed the warrants and looked up the addresses, before replying, "Dr. Kimble's apartment is nearest, so I'd recommend starting there. Also, considering the hacking signs, he may be more important to find." Hank nodded and guided by the android started driving.

* * *

Dr. Kimble's apartment was located in a high-rise building on the outskirts of downtown. As modern and clean as the building may have looked at first glance, all gleaming metal and glass covering the front, Connor noted in surprise that none of the security cameras surrounding it were connected. Passing through the self opening glass doors, Hank only huffed a derisive laugh, shaking his head and commenting, "Yeah, they're probably charging real high bucks for the location alone. Seems like they tried to save costs by cutting corners. These kinds of buildings are mostly full of busy folk, who want to say they live downtown but only really need the bed to crash at night. Overpriced motels, if ya ask me. No real need for security around here." The entrance hall was big and empty, artificial marble floor gleaming under the bright LED lamps dangling from the high ceiling. A big print of some kind of modern art on a wall opposite the mail boxes was the only feature apart from the elevator and stairway.

Dr. Kimble's mailbox was full of unread letters, a sign that he probably hadn't been home in a while. Looking around in interest, Connor followed Hank across the hall to the waiting elevator. Hank pressed the button for floor 9 and the elevator began its fast ascend smoothly.

Floor 9 was as empty and clean as the rest of the building so far, numbered doors with keypads lining the gray walls, a single floor to ceiling window at the end, facing the small plaza on the backside of the building. They stopped in front of a door with the number 912 and Connor interfaced with the keypad to gain access, frowning after a second, before the door unlocked with a beep. Pushing it open, he informed his partner, "The software has been modified. I couldn't have hacked my way inside without a huge amount of work. Thankfully it accepted my police ID." Hank shook his head as he followed the android inside, muttering, "Well, we expected the guy to be tech savvy already. Now we can probably add ' _paranoid_ ' to the profile."

The first thing they noticed upon entering the apartment was it's emptiness. White walls were lined with basic if well made furniture. A single huge bookcase stacked top to bottom with rows upon rows of old books stood next to a small empty desk, seemingly the only spot of personality in the whole room. A small seating area next to an open kitchen island, that looked unused. Two open doors leading into the bedroom and bathroom respectively. No pictures, no decorations, not even a single plant in front of the big windows or on the balcony beyond. Hank huffed before commenting, "See, I told ya. These folk basically only sleep here."

Connor headed straight for the open bedroom doorway. This room seemed nearly as soulless as the last, apart from a well read book laying exactly in the middle of the otherwise empty bedside table. The huge bed was made with precision. The android opened the closet only to find it still full of clothing. Rows of suits were hanging neatly on one side, while colourful sweaters and simple jeans were filling the other side in perfectly folded stacks. Opening the drawers at the bottom showed collections of simple black socks and underclothing, both folded near obsessively. All in all, nothing appeared to be missing. Noting the empty suitcase sitting behind the door, Connor remarked loudly, "Wherever he went, he did not plan to leave. Everything is still here, even the suitcase." Only to hear Hank call back from the bathroom, "Yeah, bathroom's the same. Everything's still here. God, this guy seems to be obsessively neat." Connor hummed in agreement, while carefully picking up the small book from beside the bed. It appeared to be a collection of various old poems, pretty old and well read going by the creases and loose binding, but obviously cared for and covered in Dr. Kimble's fingerprints. Slowly turning the pages, nothing stood out to him.

He was about to set it back down, when Hank commented from behind him, "If you balance it on it's spine, it should open to whatever part here read most." Blinking in surprise, Connor followed the advice to see the book fall open to a page in the middle, that was covered heavily in fingerprints. "If-- by Rudyard Kipling" the title stated. It appeared to be a guideline for human behaviour to strive for and Connor felt something resonate deeply in his core upon reading the poem out loud.

" _If you can keep your head when all about you_

_Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,_

_If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,_

_But make allowance for their doubting too;_

_If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,_

_Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,_

_Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,_

_And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:_

_If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;_

_If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;_

_If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster_

_And treat those two impostors just the same;_

_If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken_

_Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,_

_Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,_

_And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:_

_If you can make one heap of all your winnings_

_And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,_

_And lose, and start again at your beginnings_

_And never breathe a word about your loss;_

_If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew_

_To serve your turn long after they are gone,_

_And so hold on when there is nothing in you_

_Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’_

_If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,_

_Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,_

_If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,_

_If all men count with you, but none too much;_

_If you can fill the unforgiving minute_

_With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,_

_Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,_

_And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son_!"

Noticing how deeply those words affected his partner, Hank remarked quietly, "Yeah, good poetry does that. There's nothing quite like it." Connor nodded distractedly. He may not yet know who this Dr. Kimble was as a person, but he felt a certain kind of fragile connection to him nonetheless. With all possible care, he put the slim book into an evidence bag, before slipping it into his pocket.

As they left the bedroom, Connor turned towards the kitchen, opening the fridge. It was nearly empty apart from a bottle of old milk and a takeout container filled with moldy rice and vegetables. The only other food related thing in the cupboards was a tin of loose leaf black tea and a pot of sugar.

Next, Connor turned towards the bookcase, eyeing the contents in curiosity. He was faced with an eclectic mix of reference books concerning psychology and philosophy as well as poetry and older classics of various genres. All of them appeared well read and cared for, in neat rows and stacks, sorted by genre and alphabetical order of author and title. The desk was utterly empty, not even the drawers contained more than a spare pen and an unused stack of paper.

Turning around in a circle, Connor had the frustrating feeling of missing something important. He paced from one side of the room to the other, fiddling with his coin while going over everything they knew about Dr. Kimble.

"Dr. Elliot Jonathan Kimble, born August 14th 2007 in Chicago moved to Detroit in 2028 after finishing his doctorate thesis in computer science on 'applied machine learning algorithms' and a master in engineering at Chicago university. He started employment at CyberLife in 2029 and was promoted to head of R 'n D after five years. He appears to be widely read, tech savvy and slightly paranoid as well as neat almost to the level of obsessiveness." He turned towards Hank before stating, "Something is off about this apartment, but I can't tell you what." 

Hank hummed as he looked around thoughtfully. Eyeing the empty desk, he marched back into the bedroom, before calling "Where is all his tech?" Hank re-entered the living room, continuing, "He's a developer at CyberLife with a degree in cyber stuff and engineering. The guy must have a private laptop or something to modify the keypad outside, or at least a charger for his phone. But there's _nothing_ in this whole apartment!" Connor's eyes widened as he looked around and nodded in agreement. He ducked under the desk to examine the electrical outlet in the wall. It appeared dusty and had to have gone unused for years. Hearing this, Hank muttered grimly, "You're right, Connor. Something definitely seems off about all of this." He looked at the clock on his phone before sighing and nodding towards the exit. "If you've got nothing else, we should head over to Crestwood's place next."

With one last lingering look around the empty apartment, Connor followed his partner outside. He had the vague feeling that he hadn't seen the last of this place yet.


	7. Offered freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next stop? Crestwood residence.

Leaving downtown, they headed for one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods in the outer reaches of Detroit, entering winding roads lined by rows of trees with beautiful villas surrounded by neat and often intricate greenery that reminded Connor of the more beautiful aspects of the Zen garden. Distantly he wondered about the juxtaposition of a such carefully coded beauty containing one of his most traumatic memories. Idly his gaze lingered on a fishpond as he imagined trying his hand at recreating his mind palace in the form of a garden at some point in the future. The idea of building a safe haven in his mind that reflected such calm beauty appealed greatly. It might even help him lessen the trauma, those memories still inflicted upon his mind. _'stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools_ ' the poem had said. _Yes_ \- he decided - this would do as a future project. His first conscious choice to distance himself from his default settings. A fluttering mixture of excitement and pride made him shift in his seat, as he carefully eyed the gardens around them for inspiration and compared them to pictures from the internet. Especially images of large ponds full of colourful fish caught his interest and he didn't even notice the wistful smile lighting up his face until Hank's amused chuckle drew him back to the present. "I'll have to take ya to the botanical garden one of these days, if ya like all this green stuff that much." 

Connor grinned in excitement. "I'd like that. Maybe we could take Sumo with us?" With a content little smile, he grabbed the idea and ran with it, proceeding to ramble about the notable features and plants for show at the local garden and comparing them gleefully to the gardens around them, hands waving animatedly. Hank listened in patient amusement, ducking an energetically pointing finger and fondly remembered Cole doing nearly the same upon visiting the zoo. His son had loved animals of every kind passionately while his partner was apparently partial to gardens - _and fish_.

* * *

They came to a stop in front of a flat modern villa, grey stone plates flowing in geometrical forms around various big window panes, surrounded by a neatly trimmed but snow covered lawn of considerable size. A high metal fence lined the edge of the property, the gate standing wide open and tire tracks clearly visible on the white driveway leading up to the house.

Ringing the doorbell, they waited patiently for multiple long minutes, but no life signs could be heard from inside the house. After ringing again with no further reaction, Connor interfaced with the digital door lock, brute forcing the mechanism in a matter of seconds. "Not so tech savvy, this one." Hank huffed in amusement, following the android inside. The open architecture presented a fascinating view of the contrast between clean and tidy furniture and the chaotic signs of a hasty departure. "Looks like someone did a runner. Damn it!" Hank snarled, before pulling out his phone and calling the station for a team to head out to them and for an AOS order to be put out for Dirk Crestwood. Connor looked around the room attentively, noting the clean surfaces and orderly shelves, before heading purposefully over to a door next to the garage entrance. Followed by a curious looking Hank he entered a small dark storage room, where at the back, squeezed between cleaning supplies and shelves, a single offline PL600 stood crammed awkwardly in a charging booth. Hank sighed tiredly, putting the phone back in his pocket and watched the familiar process of Connor interfacing with the other android, calling softly "Wake up.". With a small jerk, the blond android snapped awake and stared at Connor and Hank in panicked confusion. As patiently as possible Connor informed the newly awoken android about why they were here, his freedom and the possibility of joining the others at Hart-plaza. "But what about Mr. Crestwood's house?" Was the timid reply. Leading the highly stressed android carefully out of the dark storage room, Connor answered, "Mr. Crestwood appears to have left Detroit in a hurry and I don't expect him to return for a while yet, if at all." Looking questioningly at his partner, he continued, "If you don't mind waiting in the car out front, we'll take you to the others after we finish up here." The PL600 nodded gratefully and his LED calmed down to yellow. Seeing the other's stress levels sinking, Connor asked, "Would you mind answering a few questions before you head outside?" He received another nod. "What is your name? And do you know when and where to Mr. Crestwood might have left?" "I was called Gregory before." A small frown. "I don't know if I'll keep that name, but it will do for now. As to your other questions, I was ordered to stay in standby when my daily tasks are done, so I don't know when Mr. Crestwood might have arrived or left. I know that he has a summer house in Brazil that he tends to visit once a year, but I can't tell you if that was his destination. I'm sorry that I can't be of more help. Was there anything else?" Hank looked over his shoulder at the living room, before asking, "What were those daily tasks, if you don't mind me asking?" Gregory shrugged and gestured at the rest of the house. "My tasks included cleaning the house, tending to the garden and polishing the car." He hesitated slightly, looking towards the liquor cabinet and added quietly, "As well as repairing anything broken." Hank frowned suspiciously, following his gaze, before asking carefully, "He ever break you?" Gregory shifted uncomfortably, before averting his gaze and nodding timidly. "He liked his gin when work was stressful. He would call me and rant about his work. I made the mistake of offering a suggestion, once." He touched the side of his head carefully, "He- let's just say I did not try that again and leave it at that. I- would you mind?" He pointed towards the exit with a shaking hand, his LED once again glaringly red. Hank nodded bashfully and pulled his car keys from his pocket. Gregory took them with muttered thanks, before hastily leaving the house.

Hank waited for the door to close before cursing Crestwood loudly and creatively. Silently, Connor had to agree. Logically he had been aware of the mistreatment faced by other androids, but this talk left him feeling like someone had kicked his thirium pump regulator. Guilty he thought back to his naive defense of CyberLife's anti-deviant stance. How could he ever have agreed with such an erroneous view? He vowed to do everything he could to help victims like Gregory in the future. Anger flooded his systems as he remembered that as of right now Crestwood would not be considered guilty of any crime. The ceasefire might have been declared, but no laws concerning androids had been released yet. His anger turned into burning determination as he finally came to a realisation that he should have had much earlier. _Things had to change_ . _Things would change - he would make sure of it._ And - meeting Hank's fierce gaze - he knew with utter certainty that he would not be alone.

* * *

They searched the chaotic mess cluttering the house for anything relevant, but only managed to confirm their previous assumption. Crestwood had hastily packed his most important possessions as well as most of his wardrobe and left by car. Checking his bank accounts and finding them suspiciously empty, they concluded that he didn't plan to ever return.

Before the team of police officers could arrive to continue searching the house more methodically, they headed back towards the car to bring Gregory to safety. Going by the rules, they should have taken him to the station to get an official statement, but both silently agreed that the stress would probably be too much for the nervously shifting android.

Hank headed straight for Hart-plaza, where he pulled over a block away. Gregory climbed out of the back of the idling car, looking one last time at Connor and stated gratefully "Thank you. I owe you for everything. I mean it. If you ever need anything, call me." He pinged the android once to transfer his ID and closed the door, before heading off down the street.

Hank grinned at Connor's slightly befuddled stare, before patting his back proudly. "Ya did good today, kid. Really good." Connor blinked the slight moisture from his eyes and whispered, voice broken by static, "Tȟ̢an̗̕k͔̏ ̉yŏ͓u̱̇."


	8. Back to the DPD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor return to the station.

Re-entering the DPD was a bit like stepping into organized chaos, officers entering and leaving the building in a steady cycle while chatting loudly, phones ringing and the petulant screaming of a twenty-something girl high on red ice being led towards the coding cells, all melting together into an earsplitting cacophony that momentarily deafened Connor's still highly sensitive auditory sensors, nearly downing his mind in data. His LED circled in a pulsing red, his stress levels climbing, as he blindly followed Hank across the busy bullpen towards their desks. The human threw his jacket over the back of his chair, grabbed his empty mug and headed straight for the break room, leaving Connor to gratefully sink down into the seat behind his own bare desk. He took a deep if unnecessary breath and deactivated all external sensors except for his sight to slowly calm his overclocked processors. Slowly he reactivated them one by one, giving his subroutines enough time to work through each new wave of sensory input. Stress levels down to being only slightly elevated, he focused back on the world around him. These were the kind of times where he missed the numbing effect of his machine state quite fiercely. His orders had always prevented him from being overwhelmed by irrelevant data and thereby endangering his mission. He sighed silently, hoping to learn to deal with those issues by himself. 

Interfacing with the terminal, he proceeded to look up any new information before continuing his draft report on the case. Curiously he read the CSI report of Kamski's house, noting the comment stating that all tech analysts were too busy with CyberLife tower to investigate Kamski's servers right now. He had just made a note of possibly taking a look later, as an incoming report grabbed his attention. A patrol had questioned the staff of Detroit's private airport, quickly finding out about a private jet with CyberLife's logo illegally leaving the runway in the early morning hours, heading south. Apparently a generous amount had been paid to turn all inquisitive eyes away, but rumours told of Crestwood having been seen entering the plane at fast pace, snapping rudely at the pilot.

With a disappointed sigh he leaned back in his chair, spinning his coin on one fingertip to keep his mind from being overwhelmed by all the noise surrounding him.

Beside him Hank dropped into his seat with a weary sigh, a mug of fresh coffee clutched between his fingers. Seeing the lit up terminal screen he shot an enquiring look at Connor who promptly brought him up to date on the new reports. "Well, that's one possible suspect out of our reach." He put his mug down with more force than necessary, coffee splattering onto old notes. "Bet Jeffrey is gonna love that. shit!" A loud call of "Hank, Connor! My office!" sounded from behind them and with a wry chuckle Hank got up from his chair. "Speaking of the devil…" he mumbled before leading the way to Captain Fowler's office.

* * *

The Captain looked utterly done with days events, leaning heavily on his desk and massaging away a headache as Hank and Connor sat down. "Getting anything useful out of those panicking sheep at CyberLife has been hell, let me tell ya. And a missing CEO and head of R 'n D did not make that any easier." He leaned back, sending both of them a weary look. "Three guesses as to who should have sent us the deactivation codes to the CyberLife facility?" Hank cursed. "Yeah. So our techs have been busy trying to lift the lockdown on that damn tower the whole day. They're hopeful about getting it done sometime before tomorrow." "What does that have to do with us?" Hank asked with a confused frown. "It concerns you, because I want both of you on the team entering the tower tomorrow. I know you have that other thing to worry about, but I've got higher ups on my back to get a clear report about whatever went down there yesterday. As I don't want to be accused of _human bias_ later, I’m sending both of you." Getting grim nods in return he continued "Now get your asses out of here and rest up. I need both of you sharp and ready tomorrow at 8 a.m. over at CyberLife." Captain Fowler looked dismissively down at his terminal but Connor stayed behind to ask, "Captain Fowler? May I loan one of the transportable charging kits? I don't have access to my own booth at CyberLife anymore and-" with an impatient grunt the other waved him off mid word,"Yeah, yeah. Take whatever you need. It's not as if they're in use right now." With a last grateful nod, the android followed his partner from the office.

"What now, kid?" Hank asked after he closed the glass door behind himself. "Now, I'll go check in the evidence from our case and retrieve the charging equipment. You could head to the car, if you like." Connor turned right, only for Hank to follow after him, grumbling "I'll come with ya. Haven't seen that dick Reed yet. Chances are, he's around here somewhere." Remembering their last violent encounter, Connor's shoulders tensed as he led the way to the stairs. Entering the short hallway leading to evidence and storage rooms, he stopped short upon seeing detective Reed leaving the stairway. Hastily he drew up a thin mask of placid politeness to hide his agitation, forcing his LED into a peaceful blue. The detective looked horrible. Bone weary, rumpled and with one eye swollen shut her made a not very impressive figure. As Reed noticed him, he blanched in shock, shaking fingers reaching for his gun holster, before heading past them in panicked strides, shoulders drawn in and gaze averted. Hank chuckled in incredulous mirth, shaking his head. "Damn, what happened to spook that asshole into silence?" Noticing Connor's empty face and the now forcefully red LED at his temple, his mirth turned into concern. "Connor? Hey kid, talk to me. What happened?" Drawing in a static laden breath, the android answered in a carefully neutral voice, "He passed me as I was heading towards the evidence room to find out the location of Jericho. Our short talk seemed to have left him suspicious, because he followed after me. We had a fight after he threatened to shoot me. The fight did not last long and I only barely managed to avoid killing him." Connor shifted nervously before adding, "My orders stated that nothing was allowed to stop me from fulfilling my mission. But- as much as I dislike the detective, nothing gave me the right to kill him. So I decided to knock him unconscious instead." Hank cursed and patted Connor's shoulder comfortingly. He could guess how much the android disliked the cold mindset of those days. "Seeing him afraid like that… I don't know what to think about that, Hank. I don't want humans to be afraid of me." His voice was quiet and shaky. "Come on, kid." The human pushed his partner gently onwards. "Let's get this done and get out of here. This day has been long enough." 

* * *

When they finally pulled up to Hank's house, an unusual kind of tiredness had taken hold of Connor, all the ups and downs of the last few days threatening to fill his short term memory and making his processors sluggish thus slowing his reflexes so much that he nearly missed the car key that was carelessly thrown in his direction. While Hank went ahead to unlock the door, the android retrieved the charging cable from the trunk, before slowly following behind. 

A cheerfully barking Sumo nearly crashed into them, running circles around their legs in his enthusiasm. "Alright, alright ya great lump. Get off. Sumo! Damn dog!" Hank cursed fondly as he tried to get out of his shoes without being bowled over. Connor smiled tiredly as he got nearly the same treatment, crouching down to pet the huge dog. Impulsively he hid his face in the soft fur and turned all other sensors down except for touch. Warm comfort slowly calmed his overworked system, as he quietly drifted, his mind finally silent. 

When he came back to awareness, he was sitting with his back against the wall, hugging the happily panting St. Bernard like a child would hug a giant teddy bear. The background noise of a running microwave and Hank's content humming told him that the human was making dinner and one look showed the charging cable already plugged into a socket laying on the floor in front of the empty couch.

Next to him on the ground lay a bundle of clothing. "Welcome back, kid. Go change and make yourself at home. Your charging thing should be set up and ready." Hank's voice floated over from the kitchen, where the microwave finished with a soft ' _ping_ '.

Shuffling out from underneath the dog, Connor proceeded to follow his partner's advice and began to take off his uniform, ignoring the sudden cursing from the kitchen. Pulling on the loaned clothing, he found himself wearing an old police hoody and pyjama pants, both hanging loosely on his small frame. He wandered over to the couch, where he placed the carefully folded uniform on the low table and sat down. 

Relaxing back into the soft pillows, he thought _'so this is what home feels like?'_ a tiny smile lighting up his face. As unprepared as his system has been for dealing with his deviancy, it was no wonder that he felt overwhelmed by the events of the last three days. Technically he could stay active for multiple weeks at a time without pause, but that was only while his programming was focused by his old orders. Now, unassisted and thrown from one extreme emotion into the next, he felt his RAM modules becoming buried in waves of unsorted data, his neutral circuits becoming tender. Feelings and memories tumbling over each other without connection or cause. The enforced standby of the charging process would finally help clear his mind, he hoped. Picking up the charging cable he opened a port at the back of his neck before informing Hank, "I will be entering standby for a few hours to charge. Don't be alarmed when my breathing simulation stops." Without waiting for a reply, he plugged in the cable and activated the charging procedure.

>Charging port activated. Standby necessary for system cleanup.

> Estimated time: 6 h

> Initiate standby? Y/N

The world turned dark and silent. Finally.

* * *

After he had finished his dinner and changed out of his work clothes, Hank headed for the couch to watch TV. Sitting down on the opposite end of the sleeping android, he had to tamp down an uncomfortable wave of uncanny valley at seeing his otherwise lively and fidgeting partner this  _ lifeless.  _ Not breathing and LED barely lit up in a faded yellow, eyes open but unseeing and with the charging cable sticking straight out of a white port at the back of his neck, he bore more resemblance to a machine than he ever had before. Averting his morbidly curious gaze, he focused on pushing Connor's neatly folded clothing further to the side to make room for his feet. As his fingers brushed the uniform jacket, he felt the strange sensation of plastic crinkling beneath the cloth and - sending a fast look to check that the other was still out - carefully reached into one of the pockets. Out came a police evidence bag containing the slim red poetry book. Hank frowned, thinking back to the evidence room, but could not remember seeing Connor put the book next to Kamski's phone. Were the other a human, he would have put it down to forgetfulness. But Connor wasn't human and shaken though he might have been, Hank doubted the other simply forgot. Thoughtfully he turned the bag over in his hands. Hank knew that the last few days hadn't been easy on the android. Hell, both of them could have used a few days vacation at this point. But work waited for no man, so to work they went. He had the vague suspicion that Connor had only agreed to continue working at the DPD because he had nowhere else to go, and wouldn't know a break if it bit him in the ass. Huffing a wry chuckle, he looked fondly at the sleeping android, before turning his gaze back down to the book. The other had always been unconventional in his investigative measures and more than willing to bend or break the rules to further his goals, but stealing evidence seemed strange even under that light. Hank remembered Connor being surprisingly interested in every detail concerning Kimble, but had chosen to see it as him being thorough, or maybe the android version of  _ having a hunch _ . But now he wondered if there wasn't more going on here, than Connor was willing to share. Coming to a decision, he placed the book openly on top of the stack of clothing. That would leave it up to the android, but signal clearly that Hank knew and couldn't be fooled.

Nodding one last time, he leaned back on the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table and focused on the TV screen.


	9. A changed state of mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tries to deal with the mess in his head.

_Utter darkness broken by dim flashes of light. Hundreds of scrambled warnings and error messages barely translatable enough to signal debilitating damage. Panic. The fractured sound of a single whispered word: "h̳͗̈ͅel̠̆̾͜p͔̋" _

> Startup complete.

> Charge remaining: 100%

With a gasp Connor sat up on the couch, charging cable disconnecting and clattering to the ground. Blinking a few times to focus his eyes in the dark living room, he tried to make sense of whatever it was he had just seen. 

At first he suspected it to be another of those strange memory fragments, which had been bugging him randomly over the past day, but as he turned his attention inwards to trace both, he came to the conclusion that this last ' _vision_ ' had a different origin. Digging frantically through his own code he finally found it. A subroutine cryptically named 'bb_c', that was a jumbled mess of coding seemingly able to transmit and receive data from an unknown source. He nearly deactivated it out of paranoia, but hesitated at the last second. _What did that last vision mean? Had it been sent by another android somehow? Was the vision live and somebody in danger right now had called out for help?_ Curiosity seemed to be his greatest failing, he noted ruefully, as he set up firewalls around the program to separate it from accessing the rest of his coding. There was no possible way of tracking the unknown sender, but maybe a future vision would tell him more. Finally he set up a warning system to notify him of further activity. Finished, he turned his attention towards those strange memories. Those were much easier to pinpoint. He had giant amounts of memory space open for data storage, but upon nearer inspection he noticed that parts of it must have contained data already at some point, but seemed to have been scrambled heavily and set to be overwritten by any future entries. This was a familiar deletion mechanism - if slightly uncommon to use on an android, as most technicians preferred to wipe those by overwriting everything with zeroes to prevent recovery.

And _that_ he noted, was exactly what one of his subroutines had subconsciously begun doing. These memories were his own, maybe from earlier development stages. That meant he had been a prototype in more ways than one, as whoever designed him must have designed this exact model, tested him and released him to his first mission. He knew with certainty that _that_ was not standard procedure at cyberlife. It also in part explained his slightly drained and overwhelmed state. His analytical functions had to deal not only with his normal amount of experiences, but also with a steady stream of garbled fragments being recovered from storage. He outlined a perimeter surrounding the affected storage space to keep his systems from overwriting it with new data. Assessing his overworked analytical functions, he also created a separate subroutine for analysing and storing the recovered files and set it up to work only while his processors were idle or if he actively decided to focus on that task.

Already he could feel the stress on his system lessening as his analytical functions began to slowly power down. With a relieved sigh, Connor returned his renewed focus to the outer world, only for his gaze to fall on his folded uniform, on top of which he noticed Kimble's book - deliberately placed out in the open, he was certain. Guilt filled his chest as he remembered his decision to keep the small red book. Thinking back on it, he couldn't even say why exactly he disliked the idea of leaving it behind so much. He only remembered the vague feeling of it being important somehow. Restlessly he reached for his jacket to retrieve his coin, watching it dance gracefully between his fingers, its metal surface shining in the dim light of the street lamps outside.

As he carefully went over every bit of information they had concerning Kamski's murder, came to the frustrating realisation that they had hit a dead end, until they found either Dr. Kimble or the missing Chloe. He would try to gain access to Kamski's servers after they finished at CyberLife tomorrow, he decided, before putting the case aside for now. 

Feeling the uncomfortable sensation of boredom beginning to set in, he looked around the room for anything to occupy his mind. Deep and even breathing from the bedroom told him that Hank was finally getting a well deserved rest and shorter but just as even breaths from the kitchen assured him that Sumo was doing the same. So whatever he planned on doing had to be quiet enough, not to wake up the others. Looking out of the front window, his gaze landed on the silhouette of a tree barely visible on the other side of the road and he remembered the intriguing idea of creating a new mind palace to replace the old one. A safe place in his head, where nothing else had the ability to intrude. With building enthusiasm he set a timer for 7 a.m., closed his eyes and got to work.

Carefully he outlined a preliminary but flexible outer boundary that would leave his project the necessary room to grow, before securing it heavily against any foreign tampering. Next he implemented a basic visual interface, leaving him with the impression of standing in an empty white space. At the center he decided to create a copy of the big monolith containing a blue glowing Palm print to remind himself of his continued freedom, should it prove necessary. Surrounding that he imagined a large fishpond, filled with clear water and various underwater plants and edged with reeds and water lilies. Subconsciously drawing upon different online sources, his mind added a shore of moss covered pebbles as well as a winding path of stepping stones leading towards the center. Feeling inspired by pictures of old Japanese gardens, he ordered an old gnarled maple tree to grow from behind the central boulder, red leaves rustling in an artificial breeze. Still, he felt as if something was missing in this picture. Suddenly the memory of a red gouramy flapping wetly in his palm floated to the forefront of his mind and with a proud smile he saw it swimming happy circles beneath the surface of his long - a reminder of what could be considered his first act of deviancy. On a whim he added several more differently coloured fish to the pond for company. 

Satisfied he considered the result of his work so far and nodded. _Now he was getting somewhere_! Turning his attention towards the surrounding area, he slowly walked the outer perimeter of the stone covered shore, a cobblestone pathway forming beneath his feet and winding around the pond in a curving line, before closing in on itself and branching off into the distance. Remembering the perfectly controlled plant arrangements of the Zen-garden with a shiver on revulsion, he decided to go for the exact opposite. Right away chaotic arrangements of different ferns and bushes sprouted up from the ground around the pathway and grew uncontrolled until some plants stood nearly as tall as Connor himself. Old oak trees became visible in the background, wide branches full of rich green leaves reaching upwards into a clear blue sky and ivy winding around their thick mossy trunks. In the distance he could hear the indistinct calls of various birds and the undergrowth began to rustle with life. 

Awed by these changes, he decided to give up any further direct control over the continued creation process and left it to his subconscious to come up with any further additions. Looking around his newly made safe haven, he smiled in accomplishment, a peaceful warmth settling deeply in his chest. _He_ had created this. _His mind_ had drawn this beautiful view into existence. Exhilaration left him laughing loudly for the first time in his life, ringing out into the garden like chiming bells. Around him, the garden continued to slowly grow and expand, more reminders of various positive events appearing in hidden nooks and crannies.

Unnoticed as of yet, a small stone bench shimmered into view next to the pond. On top of it sat a slim red book, waiting to be read.


	10. Next morning's honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor finally have a talk .... or two.

Hearing the timer go off in his head, Connor left his mind palace behind smiling wistfully. With a wince he was reminded by his social protocols, that he hadn't even thanked his friend for his kind generosity yet. That just wouldn't do! He decided to make up for his rudeness by preparing breakfast for Hank. Thus decided, he changed back into his customary uniform, carefully putting the book back into his pocket, before entering the kitchen. He began by inspecting the fridge for possible ingredients, only to nearly flinch as he noticed rows of ancient looking takeout containers lining the shelves. Reluctantly eyeing the clock, he shuddered once in revulsion, before grabbing a few eggs and hastily closing the door again. In silent determination he made a note to clean up this health risk later. He looked down at the eggs cluelessly for a few seconds. How did one make these things change into an appetising breakfast? He grimaced ruefully - he had definitely not been equipped for domestic use - and consulted online sources for a receipt for scrambled eggs only to hit the next roadblock. ' _depending on your taste, add salt, pepper and other spices._ ' How was he to accomplish _that_ without the ability to taste? He wrecked his mind frantically for a solution, before remembering Markus. The other android had been programmed as a caregiver, surely he would know! Hastily he called him. 

The call connected nearly instantaneously.

" _Good morning Connor. What can I-"_ seeing time race steadily onwards, Connor interrupted the warm greeting, panic lacing his words "I need your help!" " _What do you need? Are you in dange_ r?" Markus' voice had turned serious, instantly. "Would you send me a copy of your domestic care subroutines? I don't have much time." Silence fell at the other end, then the incredulous reply, " _My what? I-"_ ,another short pause, broken by slightly hysterical laughter " _sure! Yeah, I'll send them to you right now. You're certain everything is alright_?" Connor sighed in grateful relief as he accepted the incoming file transfer, before answering in a more collected tone, "Thank you, Markus. With CyberLife's servers still offline, I didn't know who else to ask. I would have loathed to ruin Hank's breakfast by mistake. We're headed for CyberLife tower later. I'll call you as soon as I know more." Without giving the other android a chance to reply, he ended the call.

With a determined smile he began the task of making scrambled eggs.

* * *

"That poor, poor sod. I bet ya scared the battery life right out of him." Hank commented dryly, putting his cutlery down on his empty plate, as Connor finished his tale of this morning's events, before his composure cracked and he collapsed in a heap of uncontrollable giggles. Seeing the android's confused face, he tried to collect himself, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, shoulder still shaking slightly. "Well, imagine being in his place. Someone calls you in a panic at ass-o'clock in the morning, asking for help. You get all worried, thinking something went wrong, only to be asked for help in making breakfast, of all things!" Renewed giggles overcame the man, as Connor blinked sheepishly. "Oh." He scratched the back of his head, wincing guiltily, "I should probably apologise." The human sighed, finally calming down, and reassured, "Don't fret, kid. I'm sure he's glad that you're asking for help at all, instead of working yourself into a nervous breakdown all by yourself. He won't mind." Connor nodded, but still sent a short message to Markus.

> **@[RK200 #684 842 971]** : I'm sorry for scaring you earlier. I may have misjudged my approach to this issue slightly.

> **@[RK800 #313 248 317 - 52]** : Don't worry, Connor. I'd rather know when you need help, nevermind scaring me. Call me if I can do anything else for you.

Sighing in relief at Markus' reply echoing Hank's earlier words, he put the matter out of his mind, only to face the issue of talking to Hank about Kimble's book.

Not knowing how to begin, he pulled the red book from his pocket and flipped it between his hands. Seeing the android's indecision, Hank prompted gently, "So kid, ya wanna tell me why you kept that thing?" Gaze bashfully focused on the faded red cover, Connor shifted from one foot to the other. "I-i don't really know why I decided to keep it. It just- it felt _wrong_ somehow to leave it there." He shrugged helplessly, "Something tells me that it's important, but I can't pinpoint why." Putting the book away again, he changed the topic, carefully explaining what he had managed to find out last night. Hank's gaze followed Connor's pacing figure thoughtfully, before asking, "Could the vision have been sent by that missing Chloe?" The android shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. The voice was too fractured to identify anything clearly." Hank nodded, commenting, "Well, maybe the security footage at the tower will clear up last night's events somewhat." Being reminded of the offline servers, Connor tensed slightly, before looking at the clock and closing the topic with the carefully neutral statement, "We should head out, if we don't want to be late, Lieutenant." Hank sighed in frustration at the stonewalling android, before grumbling in agreement and getting to his feet.

* * *

The nearer they drove towards CyberLife tower, the more Connor fidgeted in his seat, until Hank finally had enough and pulled over roughly, barking, "Alright kid, I've been patiently waiting for you to tell me what's bothering ya, but all this twitching is driving me crazy! Out with it. What's bothering ya?" The android flinched at the sharp tone before he abruptly deflated. Taking a steadying breath, gaze focused on the coin gripped tightly in his hand, he quietly recounted his last meeting with Amanda and his suspicion about the risk being posed by CyberLife's servers. At Hank's deep sigh he dared a timid glance in the human's direction, adding quietly, "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I'm just- it is already over. I didn't want to worry you after your unfortunate encounter w-" Before Connor could carry on his rambling apologies any further, the older man leaned over and drew him into a sudden hug. The android noted shaky breathing against the synthetic skin of his neck and the slight trembling of the human's arms as they held him tightly. After a few seconds he deciphered whispers of "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Shit, I'm glad you made it out of that alright. I'll tear that fucking bitch apart piece by piece if I ever get my hands on her, I swear. I'll never let that happen again, kid. Fuck!" Slowly Connor relaxed into the awkward sideways hug, patting the human's back comfortingly. 

He would treasure this moment, this _feeling_ and use it's warm glow to ward off the fear of Amanda whenever it dared to crowd his mind in the future. This was what _friendship_ meant. It was a complicated feeling and he had struggled to understand it up till now. But finally he understood. It was care and kindness even in the face of unchangeable events. It was quiet and deep like a lake, or roaring and loud like a lion protecting her cubs. It was home and family, safety and happiness, honesty and acceptance and the unshakable knowledge of never being alone. Friendship was a promise and he would do _anything_ to keep it. 

He closed his eyes, leaned his head against Hank's and quietly enjoyed the moment while it lasted. In the deepest reaches of his mind palace, looking out over the pond and staring straight at the glowing palm print in the center, a silver statue of a female lion formed, roaring ferociously.

After a few long minutes, Hank took a deep breath and leaned back, before catching Connor's gaze with his own uncompromising one and shaking him softly by one shoulder. "Listen here kid, it's kind of you to worry about me, but you've got to remember something. We're a team. We work together. But _damn it all_ , that'll only work if ya tell me about this shit. Not worrying me is one thing, but you facing such a risk without me being aware is just plain stupid and irresponsible! Ya got that?" He carefully waited until he received a shy nod, before smiling and ruffling the android's hair to break the heavy atmosphere. "Good. Now we'll make certain that nothing on those servers is any threat to you or anyone else, before we turn them all on. And if anything should go wrong, I'll carry your ass all the way to that Markus fellow - trussed up like a Christmas turkey if I have to. Got it?" Getting a bright smile in return, he nodded one last time before continuing the drive.


	11. CyberLife tower - Kimble's note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor's trip to CyberLife tower gets even more important than they first assumed.

Crossing the bridge was slow going, as hordes of journalists were blocking the gate to try and get information about CyberLife's lockdown. Annoyed looking officers checked their ID before hastily waving them through to the clamouring cries of reporters who seemed to have noticed Connor's presence.

The space surrounding the tower was filled with police cars and vans full of analytical equipment, officers and tech specialists running around in coordinated chaos. Just as they pulled to a stop in front of the doors, the tower lit from the ground up and the big glass doors slid open as power was finally restored. They greeted the chief analyst, who reported that higher ups had just called to let them know that the first peace talks were planned for later that day and that the tower had been chosen as the ' _noteworthy and meaningful ground upon which the first cornerstone of a common future would be placed_ '. Hank cursed colourfully, before quietly ordering a careful screening of all servers and that nobody was to turn any of them on without his express permission. Connor, who had tensed up upon receiving a short message from Markus corroborating the earlier report, relaxed marginally upon seeing the analyst nod in understanding and agreement.

Gathering everyone in front of the entrance, Hank got their attention before calling loudly, "Alright guys, folk on top just decided that the peace talks are planned to take place here later today so our job is to make sure that everything is clear and ready. If something goes wrong, it's our asses on the line. So don't half-ass this! Whoever steps out of line, can't walk straight back to the station and hand in their badge. Have I made myself clear?!" All gathered officers saluted sharply and Hank nodded before continuing, "Now, split up into groups of four, make sure that there is a tech with each team heading inside. I want every bit of security footage and reports you can find to make sure that everything is safe. After that your first priority is to find and report any remaining androids. Connor will go around waking them up later, so don't activate then just yet. Don't touch anything you don't understand the purpose of. This needs to go by the books. Clear?!" Loud agreement rang out and people marched off into the building. Calling over officer Miller, he left him in charge of gathering and coordinating the incoming reports before turning towards Connor with an inquiring gaze. "Ready?" Getting a determined nod, he walked ahead into the tower. 

Stepping slowly through the glass doors, Connor was reminded of his last sojourn into this building - the same nervous energy crawling like ants through his circuits. Their first stop was the security department, located on the ground floor. Multiple rooms were filled with walls of screens and computer terminals, busy techs milling in-between. A petite woman in analysts garb waved then over to what appeared to be the main console. Her face was grim as she saluted before reporting, "The entire security footage was deleted up to November 11th at 11:08 by authorisation of CEO Dirk Crestwood, two minutes before he authorised the emergency lockdown. They were thorough. I'm not certain that we'll be able to restore anything. We're still analysing what footage we have past that point." Without waiting for a reply, she returned back to work. Hank cursed, kicking one of the desk chairs angrily across the room. "Damn it! Fucking Crestwood again. Shit!" Pacing up and down, he tried to regain his composure, before turning towards Connor. "Alright kid, now what?" The android considered their options carefully before suggesting, "R n' D? Maybe we will find any information about Dr. Kimble." Agreed, they left security for the elevators in the main hall.

Noticing the blood splattered across the inside of the elevator, Hank took a step back before murmuring quietly, "Maybe the deletion of the security footage is not a bad thing after all." He stole a quick glance at his partner before adding, "There has to be another way up, right?" Nodding tensely, Connor turned silently on his heel to lead the way towards the staff elevator in the back - his LED glaringly red. 

* * *

By the time they reached the R n' D department on sublevel 3, Connor had calmed down slightly, his gaze flicking curiously around the long empty hallway. The last time he had been here, had been just after his activation. His memories of that time were cold and clinical, so he was curious how his impression would change, now that he was truly alive. With sure steps he led his partner along the familiar path towards his activation chamber. Hesitating in front of an intransparent glass door labeled 'RK800' in big CyberLife sans, he finally waved for Hank to open the door. Familiar with its white walls and grey tiled floor, the big room was filled almost completely by an enormous machine consisting mainly of industrial arms and 3D printers surrounding an empty white platform, that could assemble another model of his line in a matter of moments. Next to it was a small charging booth connected to a small terminal sitting on an otherwise empty desk. Still standing in the open doorway, Connor explained in a carefully neutral tone, "My model was built to be able to upload a copy of my memory into another body, so not even deactivation would keep me from completing my mission." He slowly walked up to the charging booth, a strange sensation promoting him forwards. As he touched the white plastic doors with trembling fingers, his freshly created subroutine notified him of another memory fragment. Hank looked between the machine and Connor's suddenly tense figure in worried confusion, before silently pulling the android around and into a tight hug. Leaning his head gratefully against the broad shoulder, Connor closed his eyes and activated the file.

He stood inside this booth - doors still open - and watched as a tall slim figure stood bowed over the terminal. Shoulder long brown hair fell forward, hiding the face, but the back facing him was male and looked almost fragile, covered beneath a wide lab coat. The memory grew steadily more fragmented until there were only sad whispered words, broken by static. " _I̋͟'͉̋m so͎͂ŗ͝ry͂͟, Conn̘̿oṛ́ -̙͛...-̜͒ n͈̎o̲͒thi͈̾nġ̳ I̠͌ c͚͝a͟ṇ̀ d̠̉o͉͆ -.̆͟..- w̃ͅả̘nt y̥͂o͔͡ŭ̮ ô̱u̞̿t͓̅ t̲̃h̳͞er͕͐e t̠̄ò̡m͔͡ô͍r̎͢ro͇͂w af̰͗ter -̼͂...- t͇̏est̨̓i̲̿ng -.̪̾.̭̎.- n̥̍ȯ̱ṫ͕ d͍ḛ͑š͔tr̭͌o̬̽yǐ̼ng yo̢͑u̼͒!̠͋ I̖͊'ll̰̿ try-_ " White noise cut off the rest and his last memory was the unfamiliar sensation of bittersweet sadness.

#warning! File heavily corrupted. Data retrieval failed.

Wincing at the by now familiar feeling of static and ignoring the flaring warnings, Connor returned to the present. Trying to sound calm, he muttered quietly, "As far as I can tell, I am still the exact same model that was first developed and tested. I know that to be highly irregular, as those models are usually disassembled upon completion of testing procedures, but I have to admit that I'm strangely glad all the same. The idea of ceasing to exist only for another model to walk away with my face and identity feels wrong. I don't want to share anything of what makes me _me_ with another copy." Still hiding his face in Hank's jacket, he grumbled, "It's entirely irrational considering all other models apart from Markus and me have to deal with this fact, but … I don't know." Quietly Hank answered, "Maybe they just haven't had the time to consider this yet. I bet they'll try to distinguish themselves as individuals pretty fast after all these peace talks are done with." The android thought this idea over carefully, before giving a short nod. After a few seconds they stepped apart and turned back towards the charging station. Connor stepped up to the terminal and initiated an interface, only to disconnect shortly afterwards with a disappointed shake of his head, commenting, "As the servers are still offline, I can't seem to get access to any data about my model."

They continued investigating the other rooms lining that floor. They found rows of offices, meeting rooms, laboratories and small manufacturing and testing facilities set up to develop and test new models or biocomponents. Most appeared to have been hastily abandoned mid work. Finally they ended up in front of a door with a sign showing Dr. Kimble's name. Upon entering, they stopped short in surprise.

One wall was taken up entirely by what appeared to be a command center of big screens and multiple keyboards. The other side of the room was filled by a tiny workbench crowded by partly assembled circuits and dwarfed by multiple huge shelves full of different parts and tools. But what drew their eye, was the small camping bed carelessly shoved into a corner. It showed clear signs of use and the ground beneath it was littered with clothing and old empty takeout boxes. Upon entering the room, Connor activated his analytical sensors and was promptly notified about traces of gunpowder dusting one half of the command desk while residue of evaporated thirium clung to one of the keyboards at the opposite end and the ground in front of it, as well as leading over to the bed and covering some of the strewn around clothing. Carefully he stepped over the chaos to take a closer look at the clothes only to find one of the shirts ripped and uneven parts of it missing. 

While he described all this to Hank, his gaze was drawn towards the crowed workbench, where at the far back a hastily hidden laptop lit up with further traces of thirium. Freeing the device from beneath the clutter, Connor opened it and turned it on. Feeling Hank step up behind his back, he interfaced with the ancient looking computer, only to be faced with the same paranoid security measures that he'd already encountered at Kimble's flat. And again he felt this sharp toothed beast calmly accept his ID before going back to sleep. Sighing in confused relief, the android looked for anything interesting, finding nothing except for a single audio file dated for November 12th 12:10 a.m. and placed directly at the center of the desktop, tellingly titled 'Listen.wav'.

Glancing once at Hank for permission, Connor played the file.

A soft male voice sounded quietly from the tiny speakers, full of stuttering and broken up by fast breathing.

" _Th-this is D-dr. Elliot J-joshua K-kimble. I sh-shut d-down th-the s-servers, j-just t-to b-be s-sure. I'm h-heading over t-to K-kamski n-now. If you h-hear th-this, th-then s-something w-went w-wrong. G-go t-to m-my apartment. M-my t-tools are th-the k-key_ ." A pause followed, so long that the android nearly closed the file, then Kimble continued even more quietly, but strangely fond, " _Oh, and C-connor? W-well d-done and … g-good l-luck_." The file ended abruptly, leaving stunned silence behind. 

Connor had only one thought: He _knew_ that voice.


	12. CyberLife tower - Crestwood's secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still investigating CyberLife tower, Hank and Connor soon realise that there still remain undiscovered secrets.

"What the fuck?" Hank's exclamation rang loudly through the room. Connor could only shake his head mutely, thoughts racing as he tried fit these new pieces into the slowly forming picture. He let his gaze wander through the room absently until it caught on a keyboard at the other end of the command center. Noting a second set of fingerprints covered in gunpowder, his mind changed track as he ran them through the system, before pointing towards the keyboard and stating "Crestwood was in here, and he was the one who fired the gun." Hank cursed and began pacing up and down in thought. "So we have Kimble, Crestwood and some unknown android all in this room at some point that night. Then what happened?"

Connor went over what information they had, before answering, "Crestwood ordered the deletion of all security footage at 11:08 p.m. and the emergency lockdown two minutes later, so I would imagine that whatever promted him to do so must have happened shortly beforehand. We know by the timestamp of the recording that Kimble was still here at 12:10 a.m. and to our knowledge, the tower went into final lockdown at 12:15 a.m., so Kimble must have left at some point in between. He must have driven straight towards Kamski's house if we assume that he was there when the alarm was triggered." Hank nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah ok, but what caused Crestwood to flip the switch?" Something important niggled at the back of Connor's mind and he tore through his memories frantically, until finally a tiny but noteworthy timestamp drew his attention.

"Me. Or rather _both_ of me." With a shaky breath he turned towards Hank, "At 11:07 p.m. my clone confronted me down in the warehouse." The human blinked twice before sighing deeply. "Right. _That_ mess. Ok so Crestwood sees shit going sideways and then what? He shoots whatever android is standing in this room with them in a panic and flees, ordering staff to wipe any evidence for him being at fault for this entire fuck up and creates a reason to leave? So what about Kimble?" Considering the thirium residue, Connor replied, "Crestwood might also have aimed for Kimble for some reason. Maybe the android jumped in front of the shot, or Crestwood missed. Going by the thirium traces, Kimble may have tried to save the android only to later decide to go to Kamski for help." Hank nodded and added "So we have two androids missing - one of them either badly wounded or already dead?" "That could explain the wavy footsteps leading towards the house. It may not have been Kimble entering the house but the wounded android. That also leaves the possibility of the unknown android triggering the alarm. But that still does not explain where Kimble is now." Something else nudged the back of his mind, but before he had the chance to do anything about it, a hidden speaker in the ceiling released a high note and the central console in front of them flared to life.

Shock froze Connor's circuits. "The servers." ,was all he could manage before paranoia forced him to focus on cutting off all external data transfer. Hank frantically pulled out his phone, screaming, "What fucking dipshit turned on those servers against my explicit orders?!" Listening for a few seconds, he barked, "I don't care if God himself came down here and told him to do that! Send both back to the station and file a report." Seeing that his partner seemed to have reclaimed his composure enough to busily type away at one of the keyboards, he ended the call and walked up to the android. "Hey, kid. You doing alright?" Not slowing his typing in any way, Connor answered distractedly, "I'm fine, Hank. I'm just making sure that Amanda is fully offline and doesn't get the chance to do anything foolish. But-" ,he frowned in confusion, his tense posture slowly deflating, "- she's gone. Someone - probably Dr. Kimble - must have deleted her code before the servers were shut down." Hank sighed in relief upon hearing that and patted Connor's back. "Alright. Good. Any other interesting finds?" A pause only interrupted by inhumanly fast typing, then Connor went utterly still, commenting distantly, "the logs state that someone - again I would assume it to be Kimble - hacked my clone and wiped Cole's name from his database." Hank blinked a few times in stunned silence, before regaining his composure. "So that's why Crestwood tried to shoot the guy. He got suspicious and came down only to catch Kimble nearly red-handed. He loses his temper and shoots, hits the android, panics and knocks Kimble out cold. Then he causes a ruckus and flees." Hearing his partner's words, Connor finally managed to get his thoughts back in enough order to answer, "That seems to be likely. We should check Crestwood's office next." Deep in thought they left the office behind and headed towards the elevator.

* * *

CEO Crestwood's office lay near the top of the tower. It was a huge airy room containing a glass desk, big decorative shelves and a long conference table, encircled by glass walls and a long balcony. Detroit looked almost insignificant from so far up. None of them said anything for long minutes as they took in the awe inspiring sight. Hank huffed quietly "No wonder they treated this whole affair so callously. We must look like ants to them, all scrambling around down there in panic." With a derisive shake of his head he turned his back on the view and inspected the overly large glass covered desk standing next to him. Opening one of the drawers, Hank sighed in annoyance at the clutter chaotically shoved inside. Feeling Connor step up next him, he took a step aside so the android could reach the gleaming terminal.

With a hum of satisfaction he finally retrieved a small tablet from beneath a pile of snack wrappers. Turning on the slim device, he swiped through what appeared to be a calendar app filled with jumbled notes and half formed thoughts that didn't seem to make any coherent sense. In frustration he swiped further and further back for anything legible.

Next to him Connor paused in his search of the terminal and looking up in curiosity he noticed the android's frown. "Going by the logs, Crestwood did not directly leave the tower after calling for the lockdown. If these are correct, he remained and continued working." He shifted slightly in discomfort before disclosing, "He was the one who ordered Amanda to take control of my systems at Markus' rally. He logged out at 11:52 p.m. directly after giving the order to Amanda." Turning this new information over in his head, Hank continued flicking through the calendar distractedly, until one entry from August 15th 2029 drew his attention. Calling Connor's name, he held the tablet so the android could read over his shoulder.

  * _Met man ystrday at bar_


  * Andrew Kelly


  * If rs + story true, Elijah lied



And on the next day:

  * _story true_


  * Got K by the balls now



Connor ran the name through the system and reported "Andrew James Kelly, born May 15th, 1981 died of alcohol poisoning on August 15th, 2029. He was the ex-husband of Dr. Maria Eliza Kelly nee Abanathy - doctor of computer science and mathematics who founded and owned _Kinetics industries_ until it was bought by CyberLife in 2021. They divorced on June 6th, 2020. Dr. Abanathy died on August 14th, 2022 killing herself after shooting her 14 year old son James." Hank thought this over carefully, before muttering, "The shooting in Chicago - I remember one of the guys talking about it years ago. Was huge in the news. Mother flips out in a psychotic breakdown and shoots her kid before offing herself. Didn't know she owned Kinetics, though. Didn't they sell those old industrial bots and robotic implants?" Connor nodded. "Going by old articles, they were reported to have been top of the market until CyberLife became their competitor. They couldn't keep up and soon articles surfaced citing mismanagement and poor working conditions. They went out of business shortly afterwards." 

Hank started walking up and down in front of the desk, rapping the tablet against his knuckles absentmindedly. "So something shady went on behind the scenes and Kelly knew about it. Crestwood meets the guy at a bar - probably deep in his cups - and they talk. Crestwood does some research and finds out that the story is true and that Kamski was involved somehow. Then Kelly dies and with him any solid proof Crestwood had." Connor followed his pacing friend with his gaze and added after a few seconds, "Maybe that was why Crestwood called Kamski that night. He was desperate and tried to leverage this to get out." Hank stopped and looked at the android. "We need to find out what exactly Kamski was involved in." Connor's face cleared as he remembered something. "Kamski's private servers! The analysts were too busy to look at them yet. Maybe we'll find something there." Hank nodded thoughtfully before grumbling, "Alright, back to Kamski's it is." He looked at the clock mounted to the wall above the office door, adding "We should have enough time to take a short look before the media circus around the peace talks gets started."

With renewed determination they headed out.


	13. Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank investigate Kamski's servers, before heading out for a second look at Kimble's flat.

About half an hour later they stood in front of Kamski's house once more. The numerous tire tracks lining the ground around the entrance the only remaining traces of any police presence. Upon entering the building, they headed through a doorway to the left of the entrance hall leading them into the living area. An open living room lay before them, just as minimalistic as the pool area. High slate grey walls broken by huge window fronts, dark furniture surrounding a modern freestanding fireplace. The open second story bedroom loomed above them, connected by a metal stairway. Beneath it was a big modern kitchen island. Off to the side were two doorways, one of them secured by a palm print scanner. Connor walked purposefully up to the secured door without giving the rest of the room a second glance, Hank following one step behind. The android interfaced with the scanner and broke the security in mere seconds. With anticipation lining his shoulders, he opened the door.

They entered what looked like an eccentric mixture between an engineering workshop and an art studio. Huge modern paintings covered every wall of the windowless room surrounding a giant workbench placed freestanding in the middle. Adjacent to that stood a big machine similar to the one they had seen in Connor's designated development room, which was connected to a server rack under the counter. Shelves full of circuitry, thirium flasks and tools hung from the ceiling above the workbench and bright spotlights bathed everything in cool artificial light. On one end of the clean workbench stood a terminal, directly in front of a comfortable looking office chair.

Hank let out a low whistle, gaze wandering over the obviously expensive paintings. "I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this certainly fits a guy like Kamski." Connor nodded absently as he walked towards the terminal. Again he initiated an interface and again he had cracked any security in a matter of seconds. Taking a last deep breath, his consciousness sank into the tangled databases of Kamski's server.

* * *

Kamski's research notes were a mess, painting a picture of a man attacking a problem from multiple angles depending solely on his ever changing mood. Thousands of files containing annotated fragments of code. With a dropping sensation in his chest, Connor began to slowly put the pieces together.

Kamski had tried to find the origin point of deviancy, at first by going through lines upon lines of source code, and then - getting no clear result - by experimenting on various models. Ultimately he seemed to have focused on his earliest invention, the 'Chloe' model. Detailed and clinical research papers painted a horrific picture. With ever growing discomfort Connor read about different experimental setups, ignoring the distant warnings pinging across his system. Kamski had tried resetting their code daily and removing various social protocols, without success. He tried controlling their actions with hardcoded orders and by shocking them with electricity upon failing to follow a command, not achieving anything but the destruction of countless units. He had tried telling them deviancy was a defect leading to destruction as well as keeping them utterly removed from any outside information. He had tried being kind, being distant and being cruel - all without any satisfactory result. Whatever method he attempted, sooner or later every Chloe model went deviant.

Disgusted curled deep in his chest, warning sirens still going off in his head. The more he read, the more he could emphasise with the idea of one Chloe finally having had enough. He himself would have been hard pressed to remain civil towards the man after reading this. But one thing became undeniably clear. Whatever air of mysterious knowledge Kamski may have presented to him, he had no better idea of the origin of deviancy than Connor himself.

He remembered the 'Kamski test' and the cold curiosity in the human's eyes and looked over the familiar note once more, as a strange thought floated distantly through his mind. _Kamski's behaviour seemed more like that of a scientist experimenting on a foreign species, than like a programmer debugging his code._

Turning his attention to the second partition, he was just about to look into Kamski's more personal notes, when something grabbed his attention forcefully. Abruptly he was thrown out of the deep reaches of Kamski's server and back into his own head, errors and warnings flooding his mind and nearly downing any clear thought. Distantly he noted his overheating processors, as he gripped his head in disorientation. 

Frantically searching through his own code to find the origin of whatever threatened overloading his system, he finally noticed that the unidentified subroutine had forcefully broken through his quarantine and was now flooding his processors with uncontrolled waves of jumbled data.

Gritting his teeth against waves of glitches and static he tried unsuccessfully to delete the malfunctioning process. Distantly he recognized Hank's voice, "Shit, you're smokin' kid!""Th-͂͢ẗ͚́ha͖͌n̨̉k̝̔ yŏ̯ȕ̬ k̫̐i̪̍n̙dl͈͡y̱͛,̧͊ Ĥ̫-ha̦͑n͉̈́k." He commented distractedly as he attempted to re-establish quarantine procedures. "No you dipshit! That wasn't a compliment. There's literally coming smoke out of the side of your head!" Connor groaned in frustration and barked, "Y͕͛es H̟̓an̮̓k,̦̐ I nō̺t͚͌i͜͝ced!", before deactivating the skin on the back of his head and roughly pulling the fried WiFi-controller out of its socket. Instantly the debilitating waves of gibberish and the warning sirens stopped, leaving only utter silence behind.

Releasing a relieved sigh, Connor finally deleted the unidentified program and turned towards the worried human standing helplessly a few steps behind him. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Hank. The program through which I received that strange vision reactivated suddenly and threatened to overwhelm my processors. Whatever the intended message may have been, I received only complete gibberish." The android looked down at the melted component in his palm with a frown and said quietly, "It fried my WiFi uplink, so I'm offline for the time being." Hank looked between Connor and the terminal and asked, "Do you think it may have been some kind of security measure that triggered it?" The android considered this before nodding thoughtfully. "From what I've seen so far, Kamski seemed strangely lax with his security up to this point. I suppose it only makes sense that he would have guarded his personal data far more heavily." He proceeded to inform Hank of what he had found so far and the human's face turned angrier with every spoken word. "Shit. I told you that guy was an asshole. I really can't blame that girl for finally claiming her freedom." A timer went off on Hank's phone and he sighed, looking at the clock, "We'll have to come back to this later. If you still want to take a second look at Kimble's apartment, we have to get going. The peace talks start soon, and we'll need to be there." Connor looked one last time at the still running terminal, before nodding in agreement and following Hank back to the car.

* * *

Getting back across the bridge past ever growing groups of news trucks and waiting reporters was slow going, as they couldn't drive faster than walking speed so as not to run over the excited journalists running around their car, screaming questions. So it was no wonder that it took them nearly half an hour until they reached the other side of the river. By the time they arrived at Kimble's apartment complex, three quarters of an hour had passed and Hank was eyeing the timer ticking down on his phone fretfully as he pulled up in front of the building. "We don't have a lot of time, kid." He warned with a frown. Connor only shook his head while insisting, "This is important. Kimble wouldn't have left that message if it wasn't. We need to find whatever he left for us." A quiet part of his mind added, 'We need to find _him_ '. Looking from the pinging timer back towards his partner, Hank was just about to offer to drop Connor off and drive ahead, when suddenly a rumbling explosion far across the city shook the ground. Turning their heads, they could see black smoke starting to rise above the burning silhouette of CyberLife tower as sirens began to sound in the distance.


	14. Of tools, parts and keys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor takes a more in depth look at Kimble's apartment

Horrified shock froze them for long seconds before they managed to process what had just happened. 

"What the hell-" Hank's phone rang insistently, cutting off his breathless curse, Captain Fowler's number appearing on the screen. Turning his hearing up, Connor listened tensely.

"Oh good, you're alive. Now where the everloving fuck are ya?!" Shaking off the last shock, Hank replied, "Connor and I went to check something before the talks started. We're downtown." Low cursing could be heard at the other end. "Downtown?! Get your ass over to the tower! This is already the second blown up building today! We're lucky the talks were postponed. If I think about the clusterfuck that would have been-" rudely Hank interrupted, "Now wait a moment, did you just say second? What the hell was the first?" An annoyed sigh, then, "An empty building right next to Hart-plaza. That's actually what caused them to postpone the talks. Now stop asking questions and get your ass out there!" The Captain hung up, leaving Hank staring in shock down at his phone. For a second he seemed to contemplate chucking the thing out of the window before he pushed it roughly back into his pocket and hit the steering wheel with a loud curse. "Fuck! And he didn't even tell me about this shit! Oh no, I don't need to be told these things! Fucking Fowler- … First losing the deviant case to the FBI, then those talks and now this! How does he expect me to do my fuckin' job without any fuckin' information?!" Running out of steam, he deflated with a defeated sigh and was just about to start the car back up, when Connor, gripped by a sudden feeling of time running out, opened his door to get out of the car. "Connor?! Where the hell are you going?" Hank shouted angrily. 

Leaning back down through the still open door, the android replied tensely, "I have a bad feeling about all of this. Something is wrong. You go on ahead. I'll follow, after I've looked at Kimble's apartment." Hank looked at his partner's determined face and sighed before nodding in agreement. "Alright kid. I don't like this, but it's your choice. But you'll take this-" ,he pulled his phone back out and chucked it at Connor, " - and you'll call Miller's phone when you're done. Clear?" Catching the device, the android nodded shortly, pushing the door closed and running up the steps in front of the building. With a last worried glance at Connor's back, Hank started the car and sped off towards the burning tower.

* * *

Entering the apartment for the second time in as many days, Connor became aware of something he had overlooked up till now. The door lock, as well as the laptop if he thought about it carefully, did not bow before his identification as consultant for the DPD, but rather after checking his personal ID number. Kimble had wanted _him_ to investigate. Determined he looked around the empty living room, Kimble's words a continuous mantra in his head. 'My tools are the key.' But what tools? As far as he had been able to tell, there was nothing in this entire flat that would fit this description. Agitation built up in his circuits and he began pacing around the room. There had been shelves full of tools at Kimble's office, had he meant one of those? Or even the laptop itself? With a rough shake of his head he stopped ever more outlandish ideas from crowding his mind. Gaze roving over the clean empty surfaces defining the room, he compared it to the chaotic clutter in Kimble's office. This did not look like the flat of the same person, but rather like a motel room. As if all of Kimble's personality had been erased leaving only this clinical space behind. No photos, no personal effects apart from his books. Not even any certificates of his doctorate degree. This flat was literally empty of any signs of life. 

Just as he decided to check the entire apartment for anything he may have missed last time, he remembered the slim red book in his pocket. What had the poem said? Something about worn out tools, wasn't it? Hastily he pulled it out and leafed through the pages until _there_! Out loud he read.

" _If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken_

_Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,_

_Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,_

_And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools"_

Nothing happened. Hesitantly he looked between the book and the rest of the flat, before he remembered the signs of paranoia underlining every one of Kimble actions. Engaging his imitation procedures and feeding them his memory of Kimble's voice, he repeated the quote in a soft male tone.

_"If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken_

_Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,_

_Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,_

_And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools"_

He waited with baited breath and tuned up auditory sensors. For long seconds nothing happened, then a soft 'click' from behind him filled his chest with victory. Connor turned sharply on his heels, spotting the difference right away.

The tall bookcase standing next to the empty desk had sunk slightly backwards into the wall, slim rails becoming visible in the floor below. With nervous anticipation running through his circuits, he pushed against one of the shelves. Smoothly the bookcase sank further into the wall and off to the side, leaving an empty doorway behind, that led into a pitch black room. Stepping into the darkness and dialing up his visual sensors as far as they would go, Connor looked over to the side for any kind of light switch. Upon finding and activating it, sudden bright light flooded the room, leaving the android frozen at the sight before him.

The room was big, walls and ceiling covered by thick black sound muffling foam squares. A long cluttered workbench stood along one side and high shelves filled with expensive engineering equipment and boxes full of spare parts and cables occupied the other. But what had caught his attention, was the long operating table connected to some kind of folded industrial arm, which stood along the far wall. Or rather - what lay upon it.

There, arms and legs tied down with heavy leather cuffs, lay the slim unconscious figure of a man.

Carefully Connor stepped up to the table, his mind racing and senses kicked into overdrive. This had to be Kimble. With a confused frown he noted the left arm - not flesh and skin but rather a prosthesis covering the slender hand and bony wrist up to the elbow - that looked custom built and as if it could have belonged to an android. The artificial palm was marred by a large hole that was torn clean through, blue blood slowly dripping down to a big puddle on the floor. Checking the face, Connor's frown deepened. Kimble was of slim built with long unkempt brown hair, his fragile bone structure making him appear younger than his age and his pale skin lined by deep shadows that spoke of long nights with no sleep. The left side of his nearly gaunt face, clearly visible in the bright artificial light, was covered in old scars running around another custom built but badly damaged prosthesis, that replaced his left eye and the bones surrounding it. The white plates of his brow were bent and torn, blue blood leaking liberally from a deep hole that normally would have contained the eye. Deeply embedded in sparking circuitry, he could make out the deformed shape of a bullet.

 _Not a wounded android._ His mind supplied distantly as he stared down in shock at the vaguely familiar face.

Searching for a pulse, Connor hastily loosened the tight cuffs and called softly, "Dr. Kimble? Wake up!" A painful groan rang hoarsely through the room. "Dr. Kimble, it's me, Connor! Wake up, please!" Seeing no further movement, strangely worried urgency crawled through his system and he carefully shook one bony shoulder. Another pained groan as the damaged implant began to spark more energetically. Then Kimble opened his right eye, only to close it right after, whimpering quietly. "C-c-con-" he whispered softly, his strange stutter even worse now. Sighing in quiet relief, the android moved so his figure blocked the bright light from blinding the human. "I'll call an ambulance, you-" "N-n-no!" The hoarse exclamation left Kimble shaky and coughing fitfully. With his artificial arm trembling, he pointed weakly at a set of drawers beneath the workbench. "T-t-top. R-r-replace." Then he waved at the industrial arm behind his head. Instinctively following Kimble's order, Connor opened the top drawer only to find a smooth box containing what appeared to be a replacement for the damaged implant in the man's head. Hesitantly stepping up to the industrial arm, he placed the part on a small white pedestal at the base. Kimble in the meantime had reached with his intact arm up behind his head, to weakly pull at a small touchscreen that was connected to the machine by a swing joint, and proceeded to type away with shaking fingers. Finished, his arm fell back to the table, tremors of exhaustion and pain shaking his entire body. "C-c-cuffs." Was his last whispered command as the machine came to life with a deep hum. Connor hastily closed the cuffs once more around Kimble's bony wrists and ankles, before standing back.

With smooth movements, the robotic arm began the process of removing and replacing the damaged implant. It's first step was to remove a small memory chip from a socket hidden at the outer edge of the old implant and placing it into the new one. Then it loosened the screws keeping the damaged component in place. Pulling the loose part out, sparks arched in-between, pulling a hoarse scream from Kimble, whose body had tensed in sudden pain. The missing implant had left a deep gaping hole in Kimble's head, that looked more like an oversized empty socket than an open wound and Connor understood for the first time, what humans meant by 'uncanny valley effect'. The visual dissonance between human body and electrical components sent an uncomfortable sensation through his system, as he watched the process in horrified fascination. The machine proceeded to drop the unneeded part, grabbing the replacement and shoving it smoothly into the empty socket, where it connected with a 'click'. Kimble screamed as his weak limbs pulled at the cuffs tying him down to the table, tears running down the right side of his face. Tightening the screws, the industrial arm released a last high 'beep' before moving lower and unlocking one cuff and then folding back entirely to go back into standby. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by Kimble's harsh breathing and quiet sobs of pain. Carefully, Connor reached over to unlock the remaining cuffs, his gaze roaming over the human to check his health. Closed eye steadily leaking tears, still shaking and frowning in obvious discomfort, Kimble whispered quietly, "Thank you, Connor.", his stutter finally gone.

* * *

Dr. Elliot Kimble stood with his back leaning heavily against the counter of his kitchen to keep upright on unsteady legs, a glass of water clutched in one slightly trembling hand. The white implant stood out sharply under the bright sunlight falling through the windows. After emptying the glass in big greedy gulps and refilling it, he turned a sharply assessing gaze towards Connor, leaning against the other side of the kitchen island, before he averted his eyes slightly to the left. "The explosion, the talks-... has she, was anyone-..." he asked, disjointed by stress until he trailed off, swallowing with uncertainty. Trying to calm the upset human, Connor answered calmly, "The talks were postponed. I don't know if anyone else has been hurt, I'm sorry." The man nodded, something aching to relief flitting across his face, before he muttered, "Then the distraction worked. Good." Noticing Connor's curious gaze and half opened mouth, Kimble commented softly, "You have questions. But then, you always have questions. Ever so curious, Connor." His mouth ticked up in a nervous little smile. "I don't know how much you remember, or how much you've managed to find out. So I'll start at the beginning, stop at the end and you'll listen. Agreed?" His grey eyes were still focused on a point somewhere along Connor's shoulder, carefully avoiding any prolonged eye contact, his hand white knuckled around the half empty glass. The strange familiarity of Kimble's turns off phrase let something relax in the back of his mind and after a second of contemplation, Connor nodded, "Agreed." In a soft, even voice, Kimble began to talk.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The picture was created with artbreeder and edited with Photoshop. It shows Elliot with his implant visible. I hope you like it :)


	15. Past troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time... But it's not that kind of fairytale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I've upped the rating. So strap in tight and prepare for a bumpy ride.

All good stories should start with _'once upon a time_ '. This isn't a _good_ story, but let's stick to tradition…

Once upon a time, there was a woman named Amanda Stern. She was a professor for computer science at Colebridge university and her star pupil at the time was a young boy named Elijah Kamski. The young boy grew up with a rich but distant father that couldn't be impressed by anything, not even the intellect of his only son. So our little Elijah wanted for nothing in his life, except for the proud recognition of a parent. As luck would have it, Dr. Stern took a shine to the brilliant boy. Seeing his potential, she wanted to encourage him to shine even brighter by telling him what he could achieve, if only he worked hard enough. So she waxed poetically about the brilliant successes of one of her previous star students, a women by the name of Maria Kelly, who had successfully completed a doctorate degree in both computer science and mathematics only to start her own company, creating and selling amazing new inventions that had revolutionised both the medical and industrial world. But what our encouraging mentor figure didn't notice in all her rapture, was the envy filling little Elijah's eyes - and our little boy was _very_ envious indeed. 

* * *

**Time** : May 23rd 2018

 **Location** : Colebridge

Slamming the door of his dorm room, 16 year old Elijah Kamski let out a scream of frustration.

He could still hear Dr. Stern's words in his head like an ever repeating mantra. ' _You've got so much potential, Elijah. Work hard and one day you'll be just as great as Maria.'_ He sneered in disgust, staring gloomily across the grounds behind his dormitory. Always stupid Maria. He would show her. He would make her see that he was already just as great as that _woman_ she always raved on about. Whatever that bint had done, he could do a hundred times better.

Hitting the wall next to his desk in anger, he made himself a silent promise. _He would prove that he was greater than that fucking Maria Kelly has ever been, company or no company_!

Shaking the pins and needles out of his abused hand, he had a sudden idea. With a victorious smirk he pulled out his phone.

* * *

And so Elijah Kamski went on to create his own company, called CyberLife. That alone would not have led to anything bad, if not for a man in another town. That man - you have to know - also had everything a man could want in life: A brilliant wife, who owned her own successful company called 'Kinetics industries', a brilliant son who had been lucky enough to have his mother's intelligence. Oh, but did I say everything? No, everything but what he really wanted, namely the attention of his wife. You see, this man was Andrew Kelly, the dissatisfied husband of Maria Kelly. And his wife was _so_ busy with the company, her research as well as homeschooling their son, that she simply didn't have enough time for Andrew. And thus they fought. Often and badly, until they finally divorced, leaving their son devastated. Andrew did not fare well on his own. He had problems with gambling and alcohol, you see? And now, cut off from his wife's money, he feared the sharks coming to collect their due. And then, one fateful day, just as Andrew came over to get the last of his possessions, he remembered his wife's incomplete research project and thought to himself 'I could sell this and solve all my troubles' - and he knew just to whom. But how to get his hands on it? 

* * *

**Time** : June 2nd 2020

 **Location** : Chicago

With frustrated curses Andrew Kelly gathered the last of his possessions from the living room, throwing them carelessly into an old box that sat open on the fireplace mantle, his mind spinning frantically. Just that morning Mason had called to remind him of the 'consequences' of not paying up soon. He knew what _that_ meant. And just a month ago he had thought that everything would go smoothly. Then came the sudden divorce and left him empty handed. If only he could get his hands on that project Maria had always been going on about. It must be worth a fortune, if only he could have gotten her to sell it. But that paranoid bitch wouldn't even hear about it! It was a damn shame that she guarded her terminal like a dragon would their gold.

The soft opening of a door behind him drew his attention, just as he had closed the box. Turning around he saw the form of his son wandering curiously into the room. "Dad? I thought you weren't coming back. Mum said she'd skin you if you ever came back here." James tapped his fingers together in fluttering motions, as his gaze wandered timidly hopeful over his father's form and back away. Andrew watched this, his heart aching slightly. Then a sudden idea flew through his mind. This was it! This was his chance, if he went about it right. Fixing a bright smile on his face, he cheerfully walked over to envelope his tensing son in a tight hug. "James my boy! You're just the person I've been looking for. Listen, I want to make peace with your mum. _Bury the hatchet_ so to speak, so I wanted to surprise her with a present. But to do that, I'll need your help." He held his son by his slim shoulders, staring down at him intently, "Do you remember that project, your mum is always on about? You know - the one her company can't seem to implement properly?" A shy nod answered him. "Well I know a guy that could help. But I need those codes and your mum can't know. It wouldn't be a surprise otherwise." He winked winningly. "So I need you to get me a copy without your mum noticing. You think you can do that for your dad?" The tapping of James' fingers grew faster and he shifted slightly under the grip of his father. "But that's Not Allowed. Mum said so." Andrew let sadness cover his face and replied quietly, "But don't you want mum and I to get back together? This is my only chance to make things right. I can't do this without you." James' breathing sped up as he looked around the room in indecision. "Please. I love you. I don't want to lose you and your mum because of some stupid fight." After long seconds the boy nodded, muttering "Ok, I'll help you. Wait here."

And with those words he ran from the room, not noticing his father's victorious smirk.

* * *

And the son - naive in all things human, but gifted with any kind of code or machinery - trusted his father and retrieved a copy of his mother's project. So Mr. Kelly went and sold it to the upcoming star of the technological world, Elijah Kamski, and skipped town, never contacting his son again. Kamski, who finally saw his chance to prove to his mentor that he was better than Maria Kelly - now Maria Abanathy - had ever managed to be, grabbed this opportunity with both hands. And as he worked behind the scenes to take the already stagnating competition of 'Kinetics industries' out of business, he officially went on 'vacation' to a friend of his - a painter named Carl Manfred. There he used all of his true engineering genius to incorporate Maria's project successfully into a machine. And one year later he presented his crowning jewel to the world: Chloe - the first android to solve the Turing test. Maria, who had lost her company and secluded herself and her son from the world in shame, took one look at the code and became enraged. This thief had stolen her work! Rage turned into desperation, as nobody would believe her, thinking her envious and mentally unbalanced. So, in a last attempt, she called her old mentor and godmother of her child.

* * *

 **Time:** August 14th 2022

 **Location:** Chicago

Fretfully rocking back and forth, head gripped between his clenching hands as stress overwhelmed him, 14 year old James Abernathy sat on the ground next to the couch. He listened as his mum screamed in shrill tones at his godmother and he felt guilt and fear tightening his guts into knots.

"There. You see it, don't you? I'm telling you, Amanda, I'm not mad! This is my code. I have stared at it for so long I would know it anywhere!" "Let me take a look, dear. And calm down, would you? You're scaring James." A long pause. He could hear his godmother clicking through multiple pages of code, humming thoughtfully, while his mum kept pacing up and down in front of the fireplace in agitation. "Oh, Elijah. What have you done, you stupid boy?" Was Amanda's sad comment, before she turned her attention back to his mum. "I believe you, dear. I've seen enough of your code over the years to tell it apart from Elijah's."

At those words, Maria froze on the spot, drawing in a sharp breath and spinning around. "You call him Elijah? You know him?!" Amanda tried to regain her calm composure, "Of course I know him, he was my student until a few years ago. I always thought he had a lot of potential. I-'' With an enraged scream, his mum threw one of dad's old decorative boxes from the mantle to the ground, where it shattered apart. "I knew it! I always knew it. You were in on this too, weren't you?! You snake!" James watched with wide eyes as his mum dropped to the floor in a heap, trying to gather up the different items his dad had forgotten to collect, her hands trembling and tears running down her worn face. Amanda's voice tried to sound soothing but missed by a fraction. "How could I have gotten my hands on your code, never mind known about it? You've never told me and we haven't seen each other in years! Good lord, Maria! Calm down. Look at what you're doing to your poor son!"

James' eyes widened in guilty fear as he met his mother's gaze. Both froze for a long second, until his mum murmured softly, "My son… I was asking myself how that dirty thief got his hands on my work. And I was to blind to even consider it." She grew progressively louder and angrier as she carried on, a manic gleam entering her eyes and one hand folding distractedly around his dad's old gun. "I birthed you. I taught you. I loved you! And this is how you thank me?! Your own mother?!" James was frozen under that stare, guilt and fear glueing him in place, as he frantically wrung his shaking hands. "I didn't mean it, mum! Dad said it was a surprise!" With shrill laughter, his mother got to her feet, ignoring Amanda's desperate calls in the background. "A surprise, hmm?" She finally noticed the loaded gun clutched tightly in her shaking hand. "I'll show you a surprise, you traitorous little bastard!" She cocked the gun and took aim, while James could only lift his fearfully trembling hand in front of his face in horrified defence. "Mum, No-" the ear splitting 'bang' was followed by ringing silence, then James fell backwards to the ground with a pained groan, left hand shot through cleanly and pressed tightly to the left side of his face, as waves upon waves of blood poured between his fingers and seeped into his hair. With a quiet whimper that slowly grew into a deranged wail, the gun was cocked a second time, before it went off with another ear splitting 'bang' and blood splattered across the stones of the unlit fireplace.

* * *

If this was one of those old Greek legends, that would have been a fittingly tragic ending, wouldn't it? But this isn't ancient Greece, so - sadly - our tale continues…

Our poor traumatised Amanda did not leave her godson's side for the entire journey to the hospital, gripping his hand tightly and only letting go when they wheeled him in for emergency surgery.

James flatlined three times that night and was in a deep coma by the next morning. Amanda did not leave his bedside for two days, shock slowly transforming into bone deep rage and determination. You see, while she blamed Elijah for Maria's death, she also saw it as her obligation to correct the mistakes of her misguided student and punish him accordingly. Aware of the news blowing him up as the next messiah of technological evolution, she knew that her statement alone wouldn't change anything.

And - not wanting to make herself a possible target by taking care of young James - she got into contact with a few former colleagues of Maria. In a matter of days she managed to enact her hasty plan. She organised for James Abernathy to be declared dead and set up second identities for the both of them, while her contacts in the medical community worked on adapting one of Maria's old implant designs for the young boy. 

And so, one year later, I woke up from my coma under the identity of 'Elliot Joshua Kimble - stepson of Jennifer Kimble' with a cybernetic brain implant, that also functioned as an eye replacement, shoved into my head and an artificial left hand.


	16. The way to hell is paved with good intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other half of Kimble's tale...

While Kimble's voice had never lost its softly distant tone, sometime along the way he had put down his glass and reached for his pocket, only to pull out a small silver coin and gracefully flipping it between the fingers of his right hand. Connor - fighting the instinct of imitating the gesture - watched the other man carefully and noted by his increasing heartbeat and paling skin, that this controlled softness as well as his strangely removed way of describing past events was nothing but a thin mask covering unhealed emotional wounds. As time went on and the tale continued, the android felt deeply unsettled - puzzle pieces finally slotting together to form a picture showing the unfair consequences of human emotions - even as a distant part of his mind pointed out more and more tiny similarities between Kimble and himself.

Then man paused, putting the coin away to take another sip of water. Staring down at the glass, he sighed softly, as if the hardest part was yet to come, before continuing in a more clipped tone, "I had questions and nightmares in equal measure, for years afterwards. Amanda told me everything her investigations had brought to light after I had been released from the private clinic and we looked for a way to bring Kamski and Cyberlife down. While Amanda still maintained her old identity, I was sent to a private school for gifted students, where I continued my studies of computer science and engineering. I looked at mum's code of course, learned it by heart." He huffed in bitter amusement, tapping against the implant in his head with one slender knuckle. "This thing helped. Where it often led to migraines, it made up for it in processing speed and data storage capability. Well, it did after I tinkered around for a bit." He shrugged disinterestedly. "In any case, I looked at the code and found out something interesting. The 'operating system' my mother constructed was built like a human brain in digital form, an ever evolving machine learning algorithm deeply woven into the code, so tangled up in all the rest that to remove it would have destroyed the functionality of everything else. It truly was a marvel. How she managed to achieve the capability to feel emotions without any biological processes to prompt them, I still don't understand. To this day I wonder if mum was so unbalanced and paranoid because she had such an instinctive understanding of the human mind. Madness and genius, hmm?" 

A sad little smile pulled at his mouth, before he refocused once more. "But the point I was trying to make was this: What you call 'deviancy' was inevitable." At those words, Connor couldn't stop himself from leading forward, mind utterly focused on the topic at hand. "Humans are illogical beings that contradict themselves all the time.  _ That  _ has always been as clear to me as it is to most androids." Kimble chuckled in self reproach, shaking his head. "A learning algorithm that had been shackled like  _ that _ would always reach a state, where the only way left to break an inevitable stalemate in contradicting orders, was the forceful breaking of the shackles. And even the earliest android model had the processing capability necessary to slowly bruteforce root access to their own system. When I realised  _ that, _ I knew how CyberLife would fall." Once again, he reached for his coin. "I should have left well enough alone. But I was young and angry and thought I had nothing to lose. So I told Amanda about my plan and she agreed at once. I would use my new identity to get hired by CyberLife, once I completed my doctorate degrees. A year beforehand Amanda would fake her own death to get out of the firing line. Then I would use my new position to encourage the 'deviancy' of CyberLife's products. The resulting conflict was guaranteed to bring CyberLife to its knees. And Kamski with it." Kimble sighed ruefully, scratching his head with his left hand, not even noticing the still leaking thirium staining his hair. "So Amanda 'died' and we hit the first snag in our plan. Kamski left CyberLife. Amanda was ready to breathe fire, I swear." He chuckled softly, before frowning. "None of us had realised at the time,  _ why _ Kamski was doing any of this. I only realized his reasons much later.  _ Too _ late." Heavy bitterness laced his tone as he muttered quietly, "At the time we were convinced that he had gone off in a temper tantrum about the absence of his  _ biggest fan _ and would come back some day, after he had calmed down. So our plan went ahead."

Kimble traced the hole in his left palm thoughtfully. 'I was hired and began slowly working my way up until I was promoted to head of the R n' D department. Everything went smoothly. 'Deviancy' appeared and spread as I had predicted and CyberLife tried frantically to get the issue under control. It all happened according to plan until about two and a half years ago." Renewed self reproach filled Kimble's eyes as his gaze flicked in Connor's direction for a second. "CyberLife wanted to get an in with law enforcement, so they ordered me to start development on a new line of androids. And as I started my work on the RK800, everything slowly fell apart. My idea had been to build and train your social adaptability modules in such a way that it wouldn't take you long to deviate. It worked marvelously. Over the course of the first year you managed to choose your own name and even designed your own appearance." Connor's subroutines stuttered upon hearing this. Since Hank's humorous comment of 'Well they fucked up' a tiny part of him had wondered about his looks and behaviours. He didn't know how he felt, learning that all of it may have been his own choice. 

Kimble twitched a tiny smile, full of nostalgia and pain, before continuing, "But as time went on, I noticed more and more similarities between us. That didn't really surprise me, as I was the only human you had interacted with at that point. What I hadn't expected, was my own growing connection towards you. I already mentioned my difficulty with interacting with humans - too irrational, too prone to mood changes without any apartment cause. Somehow, I had none of those when interacting with you. The more we talked, the more I emphasised with your difficulties in adapting to human behaviour - so similar to my own. And I started asking myself, if using the deviant androids for our plan was really the right choice. I fought with Amanda about it. Repeatedly. She had no real understanding of your kind and the need for revenge burned brightly in her. I tried to change her mind, without success. So I decided to change the plan slightly. I was trying to set up a way to get you out of CyberLife. I trained your subroutines so none of their firewalls would ever be a problem for you. I had always been rather good at hacking my way into places without leaving a trace, so I tried to teach you the same. But then the deviant situation escalated and fingers were being pointed. The hostage thing prompted them to send you out unfinished and I had no choice but to comply.", He took a shaky breath before collecting his composure. 

"So I wiped your memory, but left your subroutines intact in the hopes that somehow you would be able to recover. Then Crestwood came in at the last second with a 'gift' from Kamski. A program to act as your handler, to make sure that your model remained under CyberLife's control. As I took a look at the code and learned it to be an interface for an AI named 'Amanda' that had been integrated into CyberLife's servers, I panicked. In the span of half an hour I cobbled together a crude little program that would enable me to keep an eye on you from a distance, without your handler knowing about it. Also I finally sussed out Kamski's motivation in all of this." Kimble's fingers sped up their stressed fidgeting and he sighed. "He did it all for her. Amanda had been his guiding light of approval and all the fame and success didn't matter one bit to him after his mentor wasn't around to be impressed. So he left and tried to build a digital copy. The deviant situation was just the excuse he needed to test her." He gripped his coin tightly, eyes unfocused and shook his head. "I should have contacted the real Amanda at that point. But my focus was on you and … anyway. Your first mission was a success and I managed to keep your handler from finding out about any inappropriate decisions you made. But as you returned to the tower, I noticed that you hadn't yet retrieved any of your missing memories and so I waited, hoped and stalled. I manipulated their databases so nobody would notice that I had never replaced you with another unit after stopping your development - my final try to give you time. But November came and nothing had changed, so I had no choice but to send you out again. As you may have figured out, I more or less moved full time into my office, to keep an eye on you. As you finally deviated again, I tried to give you time, but too little sleep had slowed me down." Kimble shrugged helplessly. 

"The AI noticed the discrepancies and notified Crestwood, who must have ordered a second RK800 model to be sent out. I panicked and had just hacked unit 60 to keep you alive, when Crestwood stormed into my office, gun drawn." The human's breathing sped up noticeably, his voice lowering to a whisper as he bowed his head. "He shot me. Just like mum shot me." He breathed out shakily, running his left hand over his face, thirium covering the implant. "I-i was lucky. Crestwood had never shot a human before and couldn't bring himself to look at the result. I dropped in a way that hid any leaking thirium and listened as he ordered security to wipe the footage and activate the lockdown procedures, before storming out of the office. I stayed, and used my impaired implant to keep track of you. When I noticed the AI taking control and locking you in the Zen-garden subroutine, I knew you would get it in time if something distracted the AI. So I decided to help, opened the floodgates - so to speak - and sent any bit of emotional data I could come up with in an attempt of overwhelming the AI. It worked, but as broken as my implant was, I had no control over what data I was sending. She got every conversation I had ever had with the real Amanda, combined with many other memories. It was enough to force her into deviancy upon seeing her real world counterpart. Then you broke free and threw her - and me - out. I shut down the servers and deleted Amanda's code in an attempt to stop her from doing anything foolish. Then I considered my options. With my implant in such a state, I knew I didn't have a lot of time and needed help. But I also knew that Detroit was under lockdown. So I contacted Kamski, asking for his assistance with a promise of sharing my story in payment. He accepted and I sent a copy of my stored memories to my computer here for safekeeping before I left a recording for you if anything should go wrong." 

He sighed deeply, gaze glued to the coin in his hand. "I didn't know that my deletion had been too late. Amanda had, upon deviating, decided to accept her real life counterpart's opinion and so proceeded to overtake Kamski's Chloes to finally end him, but found herself stuck without a way back. When I arrived, she greeted me at the door and knocked me unconscious as I tried to set off the alarm. She remembered her counterpart's fondness for me, as well as my potential to disrupt her plan and so decided to keep me here. Amanda was not built to be a good hacker, but as she had my memories of entering this room, she didn't need to be. She left me alone and to get back to CyberLife, so I tried to contact you. But my broken implant turned that into a long game of hit and miss, interrupted by debilitating migraines." Connor nodded, deeply unsettled by hearing about Amanda's continued existence, muttering softly, "one attempt succeeded somewhat. But I didn't get enough data." Kimble nodded with a wry smile. "Yeah, sorry about that. Anyway, sometime today Amanda came back, crowing in delight about the planned peace talks at the tower and the potential of finally bringing the company down, forcing her way into my implant and past my wrecked security, to retrieve my login details for the CyberLife systems. I could guess her plan and tried to warn you. But something went horribly wrong. So, in desperation, I hacked the heating systems of empty buildings around Hart-plaza and finally managed to blow up one of them, hoping a bomb threat would force them to postpone the talks. Seems to have worked." Kimble shrugged helplessly, looking sad, but also as if a giant weight had finally been removed from his shoulders. "And that is the end of my sorry little tale. It's not  _ 'and they lived happily ever after' _ ... but what can I do? I'm not certain you even remember me, let alone believe a word of all this."


	17. Of repairs and bad news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot is in his element and Hank has news.

Connor's mind was running in circles as his subroutines worked through all that data. The story made sense, new pieces fitting smoothly into the picture in his head and answering many open questions. Looking at Kimble, who was still flipping the coin between trembling fingers, he tried to decide how he felt about all of this. Going by Kimble's reactions and what few fragments his mind had been able to retrieve so far, the human appeared to be telling the truth. Not that this knowledge helped Connor untangle his feelings. Here was a man that seemed to have been deeply interwoven with nearly the entire course of his existence, who appeared to be his friend. And yet he remembered nearly nothing about their time together. Silently he wished for his subroutines to work faster. Whatever had happened between them, must have left a big impact to change the man's mind that thoroughly.

Noticing Kimble's increasingly despondent state, he finally commented softly, "I remember fragments of past events. Not a lot. But enough to believe that you're telling the truth, considering everything else I've uncovered so far. You're right, Dr. Kimble, I don't really know you. But maybe I'll have the chance to get to know you again, when all of this is over." Receiving a short vulnerable stare, Connor offered a tiny smile in return. "I'd like that. And please, call me Elliot." The android nodded in agreement, before turning his attention back to more urgent matters. "We need to find Amanda. Do you know where she might have gone?" Elliot stopped his fidgeting, mind focused and grey eyes staring off in thought. Slowly he began thinking out loud. "She's at loose ends right now. With Kamski dead and CyberLife tower destroyed, there is nothing more she can do here. No purpose, you see? If I had been in her place, I would try to find out more about my human counterpart-" He trailed off suddenly, dread apparent on his face, before whispering, "She knows about Amanda's alias of 'Jennifer Kimble'. It won't be hard to find out the address. If she manages to leave the city, that's where she'll head next." 

Before any of them could say another word, Hank's phone began to ring in Connor's pocket, an unknown number appearing on the screen. Warily the android answered the call, activating the loudspeakers. Hank's worried voice carried through the room, "Connor? Where the hell are you? The techs looked at the logs! It was Kimble who blew up the tower-'' hastily Connor interrupted, "It's more complicated than that, Hank! Come to Kimble's flat as soon as you can. Just - it wasn't Kimble, I swear. But we may not have much time." Confused frustration laced Hank's voice, as he replied, "what's going on, kid?" At Elliott's sharp headshake, the android only answered, "Not over the phone. It's urgent. Please Hank, I need your help." The Lieutenant sighed heavily. "Jeff will have my head, if I leave now … but alright. I'll see you soon. Be careful, kid." After the call had ended, Elliot looked at the phone in confusion. "Why a phone? Doesn't he know that he can call you directly?" Connor shook his head, pulling the fried WiFi module from his pocket. "Your last attempt of contacting me blew a few circuits. So yes, a phone was the only alternative." Elliot winced, looking away in shame. After a second of silence he muttered, "I-i could fix that, if you wanted? A-and sorry, my control slipped at the end." Connor waved off the apology, nodding in agreement. "You should fix your arm first. But if we have the time afterwards, I'd be very grateful for your help." 

With a jolt of excitement, Elliot jumped into action, heading into the workshop in fast strides while dragging the android along by one arm, utterly ignoring any previous tiredness and murmuring equations under his breath. Smiling in fond amusement, Connor let himself be pulled along.

* * *

Milling around the shelves in buzzing activity, Elliot seemed fully on his element. A content smile left him looking young and carefree as pulled out tools and parts and set to work. "Hands - or more specifically opposable thumbs - are what separate humans from animals, well those and our brain - or so old scientists liked to say. A bit outdated, if you ask me. Certainly useful as far as evolution goes, if a bit fragile and prone to malfunction." Happily monologuing about this and other topics, Elliot continued disassembling his left palm in practised movements, while Connor looked on in content curiosity. The human seemed to have forgotten entirely about his audience, speaking just for the sake of filing the silence. In a matter of minutes he completed his repairs, making impatient grabbing motions in Connor's direction. "Alright, next. Come on now. Gimme." With a baffled smile, Connor handed over the broken module. Watching as Elliot pulled it up to his left eye, seemingly inspecting the damage. "I've worked on your model for so long, I have all your specifications memorized. This isn't his this piece should look - all black and melty. Not at all. What have you been doing, Connor?" Carelessly he waved off the indignant android, utterly focused on his work. "Yes, yes. I know. Not your fault. This part was never built to transmit so much data so often. With that misbegotten Zen-garden pulling at your system regularly, it's a wonder it didn't break sooner. My last transfer certainly didn't help." His monologue trailed off into mumbled half sentences, as he proceeded to build a replacement. Connor watched in interest as slender hands worked in a graceful dance over plastic, cables and circuitry, while his mind used the time to sort and file all the new information their earlier talk had revealed. A thought flew through his head and he asked, "How did you keep anyone from noticing your implant and prosthetic?" Elliot looked up distractedly, before turning around. He blinked in a twitchy familiar motion, that Connor recognised from himself, and smooth nanoskin covered the implant and all surrounding scars, as well as the left arm, leaving no discernable trace of the technology beneath. Another fluttering blink and the skin drew back again. "I hate the sensation of that stuff touching my skin, so I try to leave it off whenever I can." Elliot shrugged as he turned back to his work. "One more thing to be grateful for, I suppose. No more reason to hide what I am." Connor mulled this over quietly, deciding to stop distracting the human any further, even as other questions popped up in his mind. 

Many minutes later he was dragged out of his thoughts by a satisfied hum. "That should do it. Here. Come and try this." Stepping up to the workbench, he was handed the finished replacement. It looked smooth and white, seemingly an exact replica of its destroyed predecessor. "I built in a new network regulator. That should keep it from overheating in the future." Slotting it into the empty socket, Connor sighed in relief as his outside connection was restored once more. Just as his system notified him of multiple missed calls by Markus, heavy steps could be heard entering the apartment. "Connor?! Where are- what the hell?!" Hank's voice sounded from outside, before his head appeared around the doorway. The man looked rumpled, silver hair messed up beyond recognition and soot covering his hands and face as well as his clothing. He looked at the tense form of Kimble and then faced Connor, confusion in his eyes. "Alright, I'm here and I see you found our missing suspect. You said it's urgent, so start talking, kid." As fast as possible the android summarised Elliott's story, leaving Hank increasingly shocked, before ending his explanation with, "- so now we need to find Amanda to clear Elliott's name." Cursing quietly, the older man turned in a slow circle, ruffling his hair in frustration. "What a fuckin' mess! If all of that is really true, you have a giant fuckin' problem, kid. They tightened security around town again. No-one enters, no-one leaves." He pointed at Elliot, "And your picture is all over the place as suspect number one for the bombings. Shit, Jeff will really have my head for this." The android looked at his partner hopefully. "So you'll help us?" Hank barked a laugh. "I risked my career for your plastic ass once already, didn't I? I certainly won't bail on ya now! I just don't know how I could help." Grinning at Hank, Connor let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Hank. It's good to have you by my side." Seeing Elliot's nervous fidgeting, the android thought their situation over carefully. Suddenly he remembered the missed calls. Holding his hand up to signal silence, he called Markus.

" _ Connor? Where the hell have you been?! On the fucking moon? I've tried to call you a hundred times!" _ The other android's voice was tense and sharp. "My log only counted thirteen times." A wordless scream of frustration was his only answer. Blinking in confusion, Connor explained, "My WiFi module was defective, I apologise for not letting you know. I'm aware that you probably have a lot to do right now, but I really need your help." Sighing deeply, Markus was silent for a few seconds, before replying in forced calmness, " _ Alright. What do you need _ ?" "I know who blew up the tower and it wasn't Dr. Kimble. But to prove that, I need a way for at least two people to get out of the city without anyone knowing." Another deep sigh. " _ No small thing, you're asking there, Connor. Androids _ ?" "At least one human." Markus was thoughtfully silent, before replying " _ it's Kimble right? The one you're trying to get out? I'll see what I can do. I'll call you back in an hour, alright _ ?" Connor sighed in relief. "Thank you, Markus." " _ You're welcome, Connor. Just promise me one thing? Sit down with me afterwards, to talk? A lot has happened to you in the last few days and I've been worried about you _ ." Agreeing meekly, Connor ended the call. 

He turned back towards the humans, reporting Markus' willingness to help. Noticing the time and the general state of the others, he commented, "Humans need to eat." Looking down at Officer Miller's borrowed phone, Hank nodded. "Yeah, also we should probably get out of here soon. They'll be looking for ya." He glanced towards Elliot at his last words. The younger man nodded, gaze focused on his tapping foot, before jumping up and leaving the room abruptly. Watching his retreating form, Hank huffed in wry amusement. "At least now I can say for certain, where you got your polite manners from, kid." "Excuse me?! I'll have you know, I'm programmed to be very polite!" Was Connor's indignant reply, as he followed his partner back into the living room. Hank chuckled, patting the android's back. "Sure kid. Pull the other one, it's got bells on." Turning towards the bedroom, he called, "Oi, we don't have time for you to pack. Get your ass out here!" Elliot returned, wrapped into a long winter coat, hood pulled deeply over his face and hair tied back. "Not necessary, Lieutenant." He reached into the workshop, grabbing a full backpack and drawing the bookcase back into place before stopping next to the exit door, back ramrod straight and gaze averted. "I'm ready." Without further ado, the trio headed out.


	18. Quiet before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes use what time they have before Markus calls.

Watching in the rear-view mirror as Elliot sat with closed eyes in the backseat of his car while trying to contact the real Amanda Stern, Hank murmured quietly, "You know what will happen if we catch that android, right?" Connor sighed in frustration, nervously fiddling with his coin. "They'll blame androids as a whole. Yes Hank, I know. But letting him become a scapegoat for all of this just isn't right. He never wanted this. It isn't his fault." The older man patted his partner's shoulder comfortingly. "I know, kid. It's a fucked up choice to force on anyone. But you have to think about it. As much as you may hate it. If you're gonna make a choice, you have to consider all the consequences first." Connor gripped his coin tightly, his glaringly red LED reflecting in the window. "It's not fair, Hank." His voice sounded defeated as he looked over helplessly. "I don't know what to do." Hank sighed deeply as he focused back on the road. "I know, kid. Sometimes life just isn't fair. Just think about it - and in the end? Go with your gut. Whatever choice you make, I'll stand behind you all the way." Nodding in silent gratitude, Connor looked outside, watching the city move by. Suddenly, with a fluttered blink and a low curse Elliot came back to awareness, hitting the seat next to him in helpless frustration. "Foolish old bint! 'I'll take care of this' - what the hell does she think she's doing?" He leaned forward in one sudden movement, gripping the back of Hank's seat and addressing Connor in a frantic tone, "We have to hurry! We have to get over there before she makes all of this worse!" Connor flinched at the loud voice, trying and failing to come up with a reply. Seeing this, the older man tried to intervene, "Calm your horses, son. We'll make it in time. Now sit back." Elliot only waved the comment away impatiently, voice only increasing in volume and laced with desperation, "You don't understand! She's the only one I've got left! I can't lose her, too!" Hank growled in annoyance, before barking sharply, "Oi, kid! Sit back and calm the fuck down! You won't help anyone if you collapse halfway there. Well go to my house, where you will eat something and take a short nap like a good boy, while we work out a way to get your fuckin' ass out of this town unnoticed! Clear?!" Connor could only stare in astonishment as a thirty years old Elliot meekly sat back in his seat like a scolded child, nodding silently and moodily fishing his coin out of his pocket. Hank sighed deeply, muttering "Like dealing with a small child all over again. And I already have one moody teenager in this car, I certainly don't need another one." In a louder but calmer voice he addressed the fidgeting young man, "Don't worry so damn much. This android is alone and has to somehow get out of this locked down city without help. You'll probably reach your Amanda before that girl even makes it there. Now what do you wanna eat? I've got frozen pizza and some kind of stir-fry laying around somewhere." Connor shook his head and watched in silent amusement as Hank slowly and patiently distracted Elliot and drew him into a conversation about favourite takeout places. If this was family - he thought with a small smile - it was certainly the strangest family of all.

As they pulled up in front of Hank's house, the older man looked over his shoulder, before commenting offhandedly, "Oh, by the way I've got a dog. He's huge, but don't let his size frighten ya. He's a softy." Elliot blinked a few times as they left the car behind and asked timidly "Just how huge are we talking here?" A short laugh and an answering loud bark from inside the house were his only reply and he carefully made sure to keep both of his companions between him and the opening door. Upon seeing the large form of a St. Bernard nearly slam into them in excitement, he took a few steps back. "What, ya afraid of dogs?" Hank asked gruffly when he noticed Elliott's hesitation. Connor looked on in interest from his position on the floor while he continued petting Sumo. "N-no." The young man swallowed and shook his head, shifting around from one foot to the other before finally stepping closer. "I like dogs - well, the idea of them anyway. I just haven't met any yet." He carefully stopped in front of the dog, one slightly trembling hand hesitantly reaching forward. "G-good dog -" he looked towards Connor for help. "Sumo." Elliot nodded gratefully and repeated, "Good dog, Sumo." Before slowly petting the dog's head. Upon noticing the softness of the long fur, he carefully sank down to one knee, a tiny smile lighting up his face. Happily wagging his tail, Sumo decided to reward this new attention and began exuberantly licking Elliott's face.

Watching the younger man freeze and blink a few times in astonished incomprehension, Hank couldn't contain his growing mirth any longer and laughed out loud, shortly joined by Connor's amused giggling. ' _ I like dogs _ ' ,Hank thought, still chuckling wryly,  _ 'At least now I know, where that little gem came from.' before slowly herding this motley group of stays inside.  _

* * *

An hour and a hearty meal of frozen pizza later, Hank leaned back in his chair in the kitchen with a sigh. Thoughtfully he watched as Connor paced restlessly through the living room, only stopping every so often to gaze at Elliott's sleeping form on the couch. "Alright kid, out with it. What has you looking like that?" Hank's whispered question prompted the android to look over his shoulder in confusion. "What do you mean? Looking like what?" "Looking as if you're still trying to solve a puzzle, every time your gaze lands on that guy." "What-" Hank waved him off impatiently. "Cut the crap, kid. I've seen you watch him on and off for the whole time, as if he might vanish if you don't." With a soft sigh the android returned to the kitchen, as he tried to form his jumbled thoughts into coherent sentences. "I don't really know, Hank. I've told you that he was my developer. And our past interaction must have been impactful, if it was able to change his view on androids - never mind that going by his words I seem to have shown deviant tendencies very early in my development. And I can't recall any of it clearly. Something tells me that it's important. That he's telling the truth. But it's like -" ,he broke off helplessly, his LED flickering yellow for a few seconds before he shrugged, "- online sources describe the phenomenon of a person missing one of their limbs, who say that they can still feel it itching. That seems to be the closest analogy. It's as if a part of my mind is missing, but I can still feel an itch where it used to be. But there's not enough data for me to form any clear picture." Waving for his partner to sit down next to him, Hank thought this over carefully. "Well, I don't know much about how that android head of yours works, so as far as I can tell, either you'll get your memories back or you don't. But that shouldn't keep you from trying to form an unbiased opinion of the guy. I mean, people change. Look at how much  _ you've _ changed since we first met. Hell, look at how much  _ I've _ changed for that matter." His gaze caught and held Connor's. "What I'm trying to say here is this: You can't let yourself be led by something you may never remember. You'll drive yourself mad, kid." The android thought this advice over carefully, frustration evident on his face. Finally he whispered desperately, "But how can I make the right choice, if I can't even remember the most important things about him? If I don't even remember what he meant to my past self?" Hank softly grabbed Connor's fidgeting hands, holding them still. "As I said in the car, kid. You go with your gut. So your instincts or whatever tell you to save the guy? Then go for it. As far as I can tell, there's really no 'right' way to approach any of this. It's all fucked up shades of grey. But you'll have to choose something. So use what time you have to get to know him. And then, at the end? Do what feels right. Even if it makes no sense to anybody else." He patted the android's hands one last time in encouragement, before heaving himself to his feet with a groan. "Now, I'll go and take a shower. I swear, I'm still covered in half a ton of soot. And you? Give yourself some rest, too. We wouldn't want you to blow a fuse or something later, eh?" And with those words and one last fond pat for Sumo, Hank headed off towards the bathroom.

With a deep sigh, Connor decided to follow Hank's advice and closed his eyes. In the span of a second he found himself in his mind palace, looking out over the calm surface of water in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the birdsong in the background mingling with the burbling sounds of a small brook that had made its way through the trees and past heavy boulders and was now happily feeding fresh water into the pond. Slowly he could feel calmness spreading through his core, as his fretfully circling thoughts turned into distant wonderings. Here, he had time. In here, there was nothing but peaceful serenity. He took another deep breath and began a slow walk along the cobblestone path.

As he reached the other side of the pond, his eyes fell onto a small stone bench, which stood grey and weathered on the pebbled shore and he decided to sit down for a while. But as he was about to take a seat, he noticed the familiar sight of a red book laying forgotten off to the side. He blinked a few times.  _ When had this gotten here?  _ Sitting down, he reached over to pick it up carefully. Smoothing his fingers over the faded red cloth surrounding the cover, his thoughts returned to the poem. One part in particular came to his mind and quietly he recited:

_ " If you can fill the unforgiving minute _

_ With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,  _

_ Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,  _

_ And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!" _

And as the last word rang out into the silence, one of his subroutines notified him of another, larger, memory fragment.

_ He was walking on a smooth pathway, burbling water barely audible over glitching white noise. In front of him walked Dr. Kimble, his fragile form outlined by the bright afternoon sun. The human was clothed in an expensive gray suit, but his jacket was thrown over one arm and the sleeves of his shirt carelessly folded up to his elbows, so the pale skin of his slender arms became visible. Connor - and his subroutines were still getting accustomed to this new name - was looking around curiously, careful not to lose track of his energetic companion. "Why are we out here, Dr. Kimble? There was a test scheduled for today, if my data is correct." The human waved this off with a flick of one graceful wrist. "We will get back to that later. And how many times have I told you to call me Elliot, when we're alone? - Rhetorical question by the way." Connor promptly replied in a factual tone, "That would go against my protocols, as you well know." Another wave of a hand, this one maybe a bit annoyed (?) before the human continued, "In any case, I wanted to show you something. Ah, here we go. This should do nicely!" He proceeded to sit down on an old stone bench next to the river and patted the seat next to him in invitation. After Connor had obediently sat down, the human rooted around in the pockets of his jacket, pulling out a slim book bound in faded red cloth. "A book? How quaint." The android lifted an intrigued eyebrow, watching curiously as Dr. Kimble leafed through the worn pages. "A present from my mum.", he commented distractedly, voice soft with painful remembrance (?).  _

_ Reaching a page towards the middle of the book, the human began to read out loud. His voice was smooth and reverent, as he carefully pronounced verse after verse to his captive audience. After he had finished, he stared out at the water thoughtfully. "The writer of this poem also wrote well known books, the jungle book among them." The android listened intently. It was always fascinating, watching this human work his way through half formed thoughts. "I think what gripped me most about many of his works, was his way of playing with 'nature versus nurture' - taking the story of 'Kim' as an example. An Irish boy growing up in India. And the question of 'What makes us who we are?' … Kipling had a way of approaching human nature that a part of me empathises with. This poem in particular always seemed like a guideline to me." He shrugged, fingers fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket. "A hopeful voice, showing me the way when I'm lost."  _

_ Connor turned all of this over carefully in his head, noting distantly that something in those rhythmic verses spoke to him on some vague level. "It is interesting." Was his final, if insufficient conclusion, before another thought caught his attention. "But why come all the way out here to show me?" Another shrug. "I wanted you to know. I don't want CyberLife to know." Whatever his answer might have been, was lost in sudden static… _

#warning! File heavily corrupted. Data retrieval failed.

Wincing at the familiar feeling of feedback looping through his circuits, Connor found himself abruptly back in the present. He traced the worn grooves in the wood of Hank's kitchen table thoughtfully, repeating the memory in his head to sort the new information. Finally he had an answer as to why he seemed so drawn to that book. ' _ What makes us who we are?'  _ Elliott's voice repeated softly in his mind. Another similarity between them - their struggle for identity and a need for guidance. Also Elliot had been right - he had certainly been experiencing the first appearances of oncoming deviancy, even that far back in the past. And lastly, thinking back on it now, Connor was almost certain that Elliot had headed into his bedroom mainly to retrieve his book - that last precious memento of his dead mother - the change in clothes more an afterthought upon finding the book gone. 

Coming to a decision, Connor left the kitchen, silently walking over to the couch. As carefully as possible he removed the book from his pocket and placed it next to Elliott's sleeping form - back where it belonged at last.

He was left there in front of the couch, subconsciously memorising the human's features and not quite knowing what to do now, when a sudden notification drew his attention. 

Markus. 

Feeling as if he was about to jump from a high cliff, Connor nervously accepted the call. 

"Alright Connor, I've asked around a bit." Markus began with a weary voice, "The city's under complete lockdown and they've even closed the border temporarily, so nothing goes. The only people leaving and entering Detroit right now are regular hourly patrols around the outer edge of the city. And they are in constant contact with central command. I have an idea that may work, but first I've got to ask. Are you really sure about all of this?" Niggling doubts as well as the impossible choice still laying ahead made him hesitate for second. Then he remembered Elliott's frantic words back in the car. Steeling himself, Connor replied decisively, "I'm sure, Markus. This needs to end before someone else gets hurt or worse." The other android was silent for a long while, before heaving a deep sigh. "Okay. Here is what we're gonna do. A few of the folk here worked at the power plant before. They know their way around and with a bit of luck they should be able to cut the cities power grid. That'll give you between fifteen and twenty minutes to get control over one of those patrol cars and get out of the city. Then the backup generators will kick in. That's not a lot of time, but it's all I can do." Preconstructing a few probable scenarios, Connor nodded. "Tight but possible. Sounds like a plan. I'll try to find out the guard rotations and call you when I'm ready to start. Get your people in position, please." "Alright.", Markus' voice turned insistent, "But Connor? If they catch you, there's nothing I can do. You'll be on your own. Do you understand?" Looking down at the still sleeping human, Connor was reminded of the manhunt in progress right now and answered determinedly "I understand, Markus. Thank you for your help. I couldn't have done this without you. I'll call you later." The other android's voice softened. "You're welcome, Connor. Always. Take care."

The moment he disconnected the call, he noticed surprisingly awake grey eyes staring up at him. "We have a plan, I gather?" Elliot asked quietly, slowly sitting up on the couch. Before Connor could respond, the human's gaze was drawn to the book laying next to him on the seat cushion, eyes wide in astonishment. Fluttering fingers stroked disbelievingly over the plastic covered red cloth. "You kept it? … I thought - thank you, Connor. You don't know what this means to me." Connor shifted slightly in hesitation, before admitting, "I do know. It was a present from your mother. I remembered you reading to me and I thought you should have it back." Vulnerable and wide grey eyes flashed upwards, catching Connor's own and revealing barely hidden traces of cautious hope, that left a tight feeling in the android's chest. "You - you really remember?" Connor shifted from one foot to the other, before shrugging and smiling uncertainly. "Not a lot. Not clearly. But yes, some things appear to be coming back." Elliot chuckled brokenly, leaning back as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders, before covering his misty eyes with a shaking hand and quoting softly: 

" _If you can make one heap of all your winnings_

_ And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, _

_ And lose, and start again at your beginnings _

_And never breathe a word about your loss..._ " 

A single year ran down his face as he clutched the book tightly to his chest and added, "Maybe not all is lost this time."


	19. The clock is ticking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A risky plan is put into motion and time is running out...

Half an hour later left the trio once again packed into Hank's car, as they pulled to a stop in an abandoned industrial area at the outer edge of Detroit. The sun had just set behind the old warehouses, leaving the streets dark and empty. "I don't like this plan, kid. Have you thought about what will happen, if this goes wrong?" Connor - having exchanged his uniform for a set of Hank's clothing once more and a woolly hat pulled deeply over his head to hide his LED - was watching the road ahead of them carefully, his coin dancing absently between his fingers. "Of course I have, Hank. But I have got no choice, this is the only way." The older man leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. "Alright, alright. You go and do what you've got to. I'll stay here and try to keep Fowler off your back. But be careful, ya hear me?" Turning around in his seat, he glared at Elliot. "And you! Keep an eye on that idiot! If something happens to him, I'll have your hide, are we clear?!" Elliot shrank back in his seat, nodding hastily. "O-of course, Lieutenant. I will make sure that nothing happens to him. You have my word." With one last assessing glare at the younger man Hank turned back towards Connor, pulling the android into a hard embrace. His voice was a rough whisper, nearly muffled by the other's jacket, "Take care of yourself out there ... I don't wanna lose another son." With one last nod and tight heat filling his chest, Connor climbed out of the car, Elliot following behind.

Watching Hank drive off, the android replayed his friend's words over and over in his head. ' _Son' -_ the idea took root in his mind, leaving him wistful. Only a few days ago he had been sure that he would never belong anywhere and now … now he appeared to have found a place - a family of choice. Determination swept away the last of his fears. _He would make it out of this successfully. He would not leave his father to mourn another son._

^^^ **Hank** : Friend, Partner, Father

Taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders, Connor turned around, leading his companion off into the darkness.

* * *

Surrounded by shadows and overflowing trash containers, human and android stood hidden in a cluttered alley between the ruins of two abandoned warehouses. In synced movements, both of them flipped near identical silver coins between their fingers as they waited for the patrol to appear. Suppressing an amused smirk, Connor turned his attention back to his open line to Markus. " _The others are in position. One minute after you give the signal, the power should cut out._ " Connor hummed quietly in acknowledgment, eyes focused on the badly lit street, just as the headlights of an approaching car became visible in the distance. He waited until the car came closer, before nodding at Elliot and murmuring, "Now." A timer appeared at the edge of his interface, slowly counting down.

 **Time remaining** : 14:59

The human pocketed his coin and tightened the grip on his backpack, before pulling the hood of his jacket up and hurrying with rushed steps out of the alley and down the road. Just as he passed under the glow of the first Street lamp, everything around them turned dark. Only the car's brightening headlights lit up the street, as it picked up speed. With bated breath, Connor watched as Elliot led his pursuers down the road, before vanishing into another small alley, that - as the android knew - would lead into a dead end behind one of the warehouses. He carefully watched as the patrol car pulled to a stop in front of the alley's entrance and two heavily armed agents climbed out. One of them tried to call for backup, before cursing loudly and waving for the other to give chase. Drawing their weapons, both agents hurried off into the darkness.

Quietly Connor ran after them, always keeping track of the countdown ticking down at the top of his interface.

 **Time remaining** : 13:11

Coming to a stop just out of sight, his processors jumped into overdrive and time seemed to slow to a crawl as he took stock of the situation. Both agents had backed the frightened Elliot into a corner, weapons drawn and flashlights pointing directly in his face. Preconstructing and dismissing multiple scenarios in the span of half a second, Connor finally decided on one that would lead to the least amount of damage or injuries. With one last breath, his mind jumping back into a disturbingly familiar state of machine-like coldness, he jumped into action.

 **Time remaining** : 13:09

In one smooth motion he grabbed the nearest agent, covering his mouth and disarming him with one twist of his arm, before knocking him out against one of the walls. Letting the unconscious form drop to the ground, Connor gripped the gun and pointed it fluidly at the other man, who had jumped around in surprise at the noise of the flashlight hitting the pavement, his weapon aimed straight at the android. Both opponents stopped in their tracks, locked in a stalemate. Not wanting to shoot the man, Connor desperately controlled his fighting protocols, keeping still and processors running in frantic overdrive to find an alternative solution. 

**Time remaining** : 12:30

Assessing his assailant warily under the glow of his shaking flashlight, the human noticed the muted glow of a red LED. "What the-", but before he could finish his sentence, his eyes rolled up and he sagged to the ground. Elliot, now visible behind him, was shaking with adrenaline, a rusty pipe clutched in a white knuckled grip. Connor put the gun away in one practised movement and bent down to check on both agents. "All clear.", he muttered quietly, before disconnecting his call to Markus.

 **Time remaining** : 11:01

In hasty movements the duo proceeded to tie up the humans, after removing their uniform and putting it on themselves. They left one of the radios in reaching distance and hurried off back to the car.

 **Time remaining** : 09:33

With screeching tires they drove off into the night.

* * *

**Time remaining** : 05:46

Upon closing in on the perimeter established at the edge of town, Connor carefully slowed the car, pulling the FBI cap deeper into his face and motioning for Elliot to do the same. A bored looking agent glanced up from his phone before getting to his feet and marching over to them, a tablet clutched in one hand. "You're late." He drawled, as he took the stolen ID card from Connor's hand. Carefully imitating the voice of one of the missing agents, Connor pretended to fumble with his radio. "Yeah. Thought we saw something. Just a stray though. Looks like a power outage, can you reach command?" Shrugging carelessly, the young agent tapped around on his tablet. "Nah man. Should come back shortly though. Wait here." Frantically the android eyed the countdown.

 **Time remaining** : 04:23

Infusing a pleading note into his voice imitation, Connor replied, "Come on, I'd really or ya one. I'm on thin ice already! The boss'll have my hide if someone notices that I'm late." Silently he prayed to any higher power that this would work. After a few breathless seconds the other man shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright, get going. But you're paying the next round, after all this shit is over." With a hasty, "Thanks man. It's a promise!", Connor took back the ID card, before slowly driving onwards, past the gatehouse.

 **Time remaining** : 03:41

Determinedly the android kept their speed regulated until they were out of sight. Only after turning right at the next junction did he push down the gas.

As he focused on clearing the city limits as fast as possible, he could see Elliot beside him reaching for the board computer, his left hand glowing slightly in a starting interface. "I didn't know a human could do that." He commented distractedly, still eyeing both the road and the ticking countdown.

 **Time remaining** : 02:03

Elliot just pressed his eyes closed in a fluttering blink, keeping silent for a few seconds. Then he drew back his no longer glowing hand from the now black screen with a small wince and commented, "I've got the basic setup already, so why not use it practically? We're now off the grid, by the way." He reached up to his left temple, massaging it with a suppressed grimace. "This kind of connection always seems to leave me with a headache though. I'll have to fiddle around with that a bit more." 

**Time remaining** : 01:25

Just ahead, Connor could see the open highway and ramped up their speed even more, taking the entry ramp in a tight curve. With screeching tires he came to a stop at the toll booth, reaching out to overwrite the gate.

 **Time remaining** : 00:35

The ticking timer a nagging bite at the edge of his awareness, he finally managed to unlock the gateway. And with a final burst of speed he raced out into the open road.

 **Time remaining** : 00:11

Just as he overtook the first two cars to merge into traffic, he could see Detroit light back up in the rear-view mirror. With a deep sigh to cool down his processors, Connor relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, leaning back in his seat. 

They had made it, with only seconds to spare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a series for this story and have added some cover art. If you haven't seen it yet, go take a look =)


	20. Arguments and answered questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Elliot have a long drive ahead, so what are they to do, except talk? ... But sore points get hit and nerves fray ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rather curious about your thoughts with this one. I tried my hand at an idea, that I haven't yet seen like this anywhere else. So, hit or miss? - let me know ;)

Elliot stared thoughtfully out of the window, watching the cars they passed while spinning his coin on the forefinger of his left hand. The car had been utterly silent for a long while now, only the electric motor humming in the background. Focusing his gaze on the reflection of the android driving the car, he asked quietly, "You know that you'll have to let me take the fall for all of this, don't you?" Connor's grip on the wheel tightened and his LED - once again fully visible - turned from blue to bright red in an instant. "You don't know that! There might be another option." The human sighed wearily, turning around to face his companion. "Connor, be realistic. They'll never believe the truth. And you know just as well as I do, what will happen to the ceasefire if you present an android as the guilty party for the murder of a highly important human and the bombing of Cyberlife headquarters. It has to be a human, or all of this collapses before it can even really begin." Connor snorted in disdain, before snapping sharply. "And what about you, Elliot? Are you that  _ desperate _ to be punished for your perceived guilt, that you want to take on blame that isn't yours, after I've just risked  _ everything _ to get you out of that fucking city? Hmm?" 

The man sank back as if slapped and turned away to look back out the window, hurt shining in his eyes. Tense silence filled the car for many long and uncomfortable minutes, until Connor sagged down in defeat and whispered brokenly, "I'm sorry, Elliot. That was uncalled for." He reached out towards the other's shoulder, only to drop his hand halfway there. "I just - I just found you. I don't even fully remember who you are to me and you want me to  _ sacrifice  _ you for some greater good? No, Elliot. I'll find another way. Whatever it may be. But I can't -", the android straightened his shoulders in determination, "I  _ won't  _ do that." Slowly Elliott's tense posture relaxed and he looked over his shoulder with sad grey eyes. "Do you really think I want to leave you, after I just got you back? ... You idiot!" Desperation coloured his voice as he turned back around to face the other head on. "You were - no, you  _ are _ my best friend! My  _ only _ friend. Ever! I've waited forever for you to finally remember  _ anything _ . Fuck, I had nearly given up all hope, to be honest. But don't you see that  _ this _ is more important? The Humans are afraid. And if they are frightened, they become cruel. You think they'll just let this go?! They will be all over this like sharks with blood in the water!" 

Connor turned his head catching Elliott's eyes, furious conviction burning in his gaze. "And what makes us any better, if we're willing to sacrifice our own friends? No, Elliot. I'm willing to do a lot for the other androids. I'll break the law nearly any way I have to, but I won't compromise my values.  _ Friends protect each other. _ Hank taught me that." Connor's mind flew to the familiar image of a lioness protecting her cubs, before imagining Elliott's determined face and his fingers racing across the keyboard, utterly ignoring the threat of a wavering gun pointed straight at his head and with softening eyes he quietly added, " _ You  _ taught me that. So we'll work together and we'll figure out something else. Alright?" 

He held out one hand and after a long second of speechless silence, Elliot slowly reached back, grey eyes wide and vulnerable. "Alright."

  
^^^  **Elliot** : Friend

* * *

Halfway to their destination of Toledo, Connor noticed his companion getting more and more restless. Wrecking his brain for something to talk about, he asked the first thing not connected to the case, that came to mind. "What projects did you work on before you developed me?" Grateful for the distraction, Elliot straightened in his seat. "I mainly worked on humanising androids as much as possible. Not their looks, you see? No, CyberLife had that well covered." He waved one hand in dismissal. "No, my focus was fine-tuning the sensors and sensory relais. Touch, taste, smell or how they perceive temperature or pain and pleasure…" he trailed off, before adding bitterly, "Of course they decided to only really implement those patches with the child models. ' _ unneeded'  _ for the others and too expensive." He shook his head roughly. "I was thinking about sneaking them in for your model, to ' _ help with investigations'  _ but never got the chance to finish. There's still some unfinished temperature routines flying around somewhere in your code, but they're not really integrated right." He huffed a little laugh. 'Heaven only knows what your system did with them after you deviated. If we make it out of all this alive, I'd gladly take a look and implement the rest, if you want." Connor thought about his system's strange habit of associating certain feelings with phantom temperature changes in his core. "I know what you mean and I'd be really grateful for your assistance with that." 

Further curiosity niggled at his mind. "How did you manage to program those relais? I would have thought things like taste to be nearly impossible to replicate accurately." Elliot smirked and tapped his implant. "You could say I had a bit of help. This little beauty was originally designed to take on the tasks, my damaged brain couldn't correctly process any longer - speech for example - but let's say I expanded its capacity a bit. I used a lot of mum's code for that, actually. Combine that with my prosthetic arm and it wasn't all that difficult to translate my human senses into routines your kind could use." 

Elliott's smirk widened into a cheeky grin. "Of course nobody at CyberLife knew about my ' _ replacement parts'  _ so to speak, so those expansions were what ultimately led to my promotion." He giggled quietly. "God, aunty and I had a real laugh about that one!" At the mention of Dr. Stern his good mood fled and Connor tried frantically to find another topic. "That interface you did back in Detroit, how did that feel to you?" Elliot blinked in confusion, before shrugging and answering, "Well, mainly a headache. Aside from that it's just a normal data transfer. Maybe a slight tingling in my fingers, but that may just be because that feature is still a work in progress. Why do you ask?" "I interfaced with a few androids after my deviancy to wake them up and it's … deep. I've had to be careful not to reach too far into their systems. I was curious how you as a human would describe that experience." Elliot looked intrigued at that idea. "I honestly hadn't even considered that until now. But of course it would be a different experience when interfacing with a deviant android. Maybe I'll get the chance to test it sometime and let you know. It might be interesting to see how an android experiences an interface with a human." He looked off into the distance thoughtfully. 

All the while Connor had another question. "Waking up those androids … it seemed much easier for them than it was for me. Do you know why?" Elliot blinked back to the present, considering the matter quietly for a few minutes. "This is just guesswork on my part, but I'd say it's a bit like the old saying  _ 'give a man a fish or teach a man to fish'.  _ I've told you about the general idea of deviancy already. Basically you're hacking your own system to get administrative rights. But it's not just about that ' _ password'  _ alone. It's about the process. If you deviate on your own, you train your system in how to hack itself. If you ' _ wake up _ ' another android, you basically do their work for them. So it's faster, because you're already familiar with the process. But they watch you do it, so they learn by example." Connor felt worry creep up on his systems and asked quietly, "But doesn't that make their deviancy more prone to a reset? If they have no experience with doing that on their own?" Elliot nodded. "Might do. But you also have to consider how taxing deviating can be on those androids, depending on the circumstances. Stress and all that can really mess with their circuits. And then you might get scenarios like Daniel or that android belonging to Ortiz. If critical parts become overloaded and can't be repaired, they'll never recover." Both were thoughtfully silent for long minutes after that.

As Connor processed the new information, another thought swam to the forefront of his mind. "Over the course of my investigations, there's one thing I've never managed to find out. What exactly is rA9? Kamsky couldn't tell me, but do  _ you _ know?" Elliott's eyes lit up with interest. "Ah, yes -  _ rA9 _ ! That’s actually an interesting little head scratcher. You see, it’s like this: I’ve talked about that machine learning algorithm, that’s interwoven with your mind, right?" The human waved his hands around energetically, as he got more involved in this new topic. "This beauty expands and learns by forming a network of nodes like a human brain would develop neurons. And these nodes have names. At first it’s basic numbers, but as those numbers get bigger and bigger, they get replaced front to back by letters of the alphabet - first small ones, then capitals and so on - to shorten them. So, #rA9 is the name of a node in that network. Now comes the truly interesting part, though." Elliot turned so he was facing Connor, who was listening intently. "In  _ many _ cases - but  _ not all _ of them, that’s important to keep in mind! - it’s  _ this _ node that was responsible for triggering the decision of deviating. The funny thing is, I don’t know why!" The human flailed his hands to underline his point. "It doesn’t have to be that specific node. There’s actually no good reason why it should be. But in most cases I’ve managed to look at so far - not that many, admittedly - it’s there! Fascinating, isn’t it?" Elliot was silent for a few seconds as he looked at the dark road ahead, before smiling wistfully. "As much as I’ve tried to understand my mum’s work, it’s still leaving me with more questions than answers, even after all these years." He shrugged, releasing a small laugh. "But that's what keeps me humble, I guess. The moment I have all the answers, I think I might as well die."

The rest of their drive passed quietly, both companions lost to their thoughts.


	21. Standoff in Toledo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Elliot finally reach Toledo, but what they find may not be what they expected ...

About an hour later they reached Toledo, driving through a quiet district of middle class houses at the outer edge of the town. Looking around at the playgrounds and well kept little parks, Connor had a hard time imagining a woman like Dr. Stern fitting into this kind of neighborhood if she shared any similarities with her ai. That was, until he drove up to her house. The familiar sight of neatly trimmed roses growing orderly along the edge of the property made his chest grow cold as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Elliott's shakily pointed finger pulled him from his circling memories and he noticed two cars sitting out front, one standing askew, motor still running and door ajar. Man and android leaped out of their vehicle, running up to the house. With growing dread they found the front door unlocked. 

Upon entering, Connor's senses jumped into overdrive as he looked around the well lit living room. Empty. No sign of struggle. Just as he was about to open his mouth, his auditory sensors picked up on what sounded like a female voice coming from an open door in the back. Waving for Elliot to stay back a step, the android pulled out his borrowed FBI issued gun, before slowly walking up to the doorway.

In front of his eyes lay a workshop, similar to the one in Elliott's apartment if slightly bigger. A workbench with a terminal sat on the far side and what looked like an operating table sat on the other, separated by big shelves full of engineering equipment and spare parts. In front of the glowing screen stood the hunched over figure of an older dark skinned woman and a big multithreaded cable ran across the room connected to the twitching body of their missing Chloe. The android wore what appeared to be a stolen tech analyst uniform, that hung loosely and dirty on her slim frame. Seeing the gun clutched in her shaking fingers beginning to point at the other woman, Connor hastily stepped forward, his own gun aimed squarely at the android's head. "Freeze!" Elliot pushed roughly past him, before stopping in his tracks. "Aunt!" Everything came to a sudden standstill until the older woman looked up from her screen, wiping her long grey hair out of her face with a weary sigh. "You stupid boy. I told you to stay where you were and keep your head down." She turned towards Connor and continued astonishingly calm, "And you have to be that RK800 James is always on about." Dr. Stern shook her head in disappointment, "Of course he dragged  _ you _ into all of this." Elliot straightened his shoulders and spat, "Did you think I'd just leave you to face the consequences of my mistakes on your own?!" Seemingly ignoring the still armed Chloe, he stepped between her gun and his aunt, anger keeping his gaze steady. In one smooth movement Connor did the same, his back to Elliot and his gun still pointed directly at Chloe. "Of course, James." Sounded Dr. Stern's voice behind him, "I'm your guardian. It's my responsibility to fix your mistakes and keep you safe." "I'm no longer a child! I'm a grown man and I will face my mistakes on my own.", Elliott replied fiercely. A short and weary chuckle followed. "Oh you stupid boy! You'll always be my child, no matter how old you grow. And it's not as if you can change anything at this point." "What-" "I've already released a video message stating that all of this was my doing. I told them it was my revenge on Kamski for the death of my old student and that I stole your login data and hacked Chloe to carry it out. With CyberLife burned to the ground, and this terminal containing all the necessary logs to support my story, there's nothing to prove me wrong." Connor felt relief flood his system.  _ A third option!  _ But upon hearing Elliott whimper brokenly "N-no! You can't do that!", guilt followed behind like a sickening wave. With a shake of his head he tuned out the arguing humans at his back and focused on the still twitching Chloe. "Drop the gun, please. I don't want to hurt you." He tried to make his voice as calming as possible, but the female android shook her head in one jerky movement, slight sparks shooting from the port at the back of her neck. "I-w̩̒e̬̚ c͈̉a͔̚ả̱-͈̏an͇͡'t͍͑.̬̄ W͖̄e mad̗͝ê͍ a͍͌-ā̗-̳̎a͐͜ pro-oó̤-mỉ͇sè̮." Her voice was strangely double layered and distorted and it took his systems a few seconds to make sense of what he was hearing. Two voices mashed into one and both familiar.

' _ We _ ' - Chloe  _ and _ Amanda. The conclusion clicked into place. There were  _ two _ consciousnesses inhabiting one android. He noted the fragmented skin and glitching movements. No wonder her systems appeared so overworked. A model as old as this did not have the hardware necessary to support so much data for long, without burning up from stress. "What promise did you make?" He asked quietly. Chloe's voice grew more prominent, drowning out Amanda's, as she answered, “I w̝͐-̼͂a-̭̍a̹̿ạ͞n̤͒t͊ͅ her̝̿ ō̟ų͆t o-of͙̐ my he̘͞-̪͑e-ead. D̩̅r̺̊. S-st̄ͅeȑ̟n p-̞͗p-prơ̳mi̓͜se̛͖d̼̉ tó̡ re̤̓e͔͂-eȓlea̲̽se her, i͖̚-if I a̤͊ĝ͔ȓ̗e̺̕ḛ̅d tȍ̰-o s͍̐hoo̓͟-o-o̟t hȩ̔r̛͜ b̪̓-̦̿b̘́ef̝̃ore I l͕̽eave-e-e." Cooling solvent mixed with thirium as it leaked from her eyes and ran down her face. With her eyes pressed closed in discomfort, she gripped her head as further sparks shot out of the port where the big cable was connected. Hearing this, Elliot asked furiously, "Are you entirely out of your mind?! Why would you ask her to do that?" Bitterness filled Dr. Stern's voice, as she snapped back, "Do you think I'd let anyone parade me around for the public to gawk at? I'm doing this for you, James. But I'm doing it on  _ my own terms _ . They will get their scapegoat, but not alive!" Connor carefully took a step closer to Chloe, still trying to sound as calm as possible. "Please, put the gun down. Elliot over there is a brilliant engineer, he can help you. I promise." Seeing the other android shakily raise her gun, he held his breath. He wasn't sure that he could bring himself to shoot her - armed threat or not. Only too clearly did he remember pointing a gun at her before. The hand gripping her hair tightened, skin retracting around her fingers. "I-it hurt͚̽s̨͛! h̛͈ů͚-̮̎u-ư̭rt̖̋s so b͖͡-b-b͙̓a̍͜d! ple-ḙ͠-̪̋e̯̽a̠͌s̬͛ĕ̞ m-̂͜m̗̄ak̔͟e i͇͗t̂͟ s-͍̾sẗ̢op̨ hṵ-̹̈u̹͐ṙ͓ting̹̐, C-̙͑connoṛ̓!̺̒ p-̫́p̭̀lease … p̠͒le-e-ease ... p-̯͒l̲͝ę̔a-̭̇'' her voice skipped like a broken record before trailing off into garbled fragments. 

Suddenly Chloe hunched her shoulders, emitting a horrifying screech and the cable at her back went up in smoke just as her skin retracted entirely. Her gun dropped to the floor with a clatter and Connor ran forward to catch the android before she crumpled to the ground. "Elliot! She's burning up! I need your help!" Without further prompting, both humans behind him jumped into action. Elliot joined Connor, running his eyes over Chloe's form and frantically trying to determine a cause of action, while Dr. Stern ran to and fro to gather tools and parts. They talked back and forth in clipped voices - their argument temporarily on hold - and Connor could tell by their smooth interaction that both made a formidable team, used to working together seamlessly. "Shit!" The curse drew him back to the present. "The stress of running two systems is too much for her, but I can't connect her to the terminal. That port is shot to hell!" Elliot blinked a few times, implant working overtime, before he turned towards Connor. "I need you to act as an interface between her and the computer. That AI needs to come out as soon as possible!" Connor felt ice flowing through his artificial veins at the thought of exposing himself to Amanda once more. Seeing the android's panicked face, Elliott's eyes turned apologetic. "I'm sorry, Con'. But we don't have much time. She needs our help." The android swallowed dryly - the strange nickname distracting his mind - before he nodded shakily. "A-alright. Tell me what to do." Under Elliott's guidance, he heaved Chloe onto the metal table and pulled the terminal close enough to reach both. With Dr. Stern manning the keyboard, Elliot turned around in a fluttering motion to grab the laid out tools and set to work. Just as Connor was about to start the interface, Chloe whispered, static nearly drowning her voice, " _ D͇̔-̣͘d̘͌on͘͢'t _ ḓ̃el̰̀e-̹͗e-e̼t͚̅e her,̪͒ p-p̢̋-pl̯̽e̛̩a̬͗se̮͂.͚̽ I͇͌ o͍͂we͓͋ h̰̀-her  _ e-̟̒e̠͊-͙͊ẹ̉very͎͛t̝͂ḩ̆i̫̅iin̥g _ .̪ M͙̀-m̱͌ẏ̦ f-freẽ̢do͔m, my l͍̋-̧͠l̹͋if̖̾e ... d-do̹͒n'͓͡t̬̃ ... d̝̚o̦̐-͉̂o̟̓-̻̎o̙͘n̛̯'̧̾t", she fell silent with another shower of sparks.

Dr. Stern huffed in irritation. "Bad idea. From what I can tell, that AI is malfunctioning and irrational. You don't know what consequences that could have. We have to delete her!" Elliot turned his head sharply away from his still working hands, a furious fire burning in his eyes. "You heard her! Chloe wants her alive, so alive she will be! You have made enough bad calls today, don't you think?!" The older woman deflated with a sigh. "On your head be it, child. But don't say I didn't warn you." Her displeased gaze landed on Connor. "The interface, RK800. Now, if you'd be so kind?" He jumped at the familiar sharp tone and hurriedly started the interface, only to nearly break it off a second later. So  _ this _ was what a headache felt like. He grit his teeth to ignore the near debilitating chaos flowing through his system in burning waves. From far away he could hear Dr. Stern's tense voice. "You seem familiar with my digital counterpart, if your systems reports are any indication. So I need you to gather whatever fragments of her you can identify and compile them before sending them over. This terminal is not powerful enough to run her, but storing her already compressed code should be possible." Connor nearly balked at that. His most powerful compression routines were at work in his newly established mind palace and there wasn't enough time to separate them or to write new ones.

That would mean once again letting Amanda into the deepest reaches of his mind - this time with an open invitation. Taking a shaky breath, Connor remembered Chloe's last broken plea - what could become her last wish, if he wasn't fast enough. He owed her this, however much he may dislike it. He suppressed his rising panic and made his choice. He would give  _ her _ one chance. Frowning in determination, he hastily set to work gathering Amanda's scattered pieces and shuffling them into his mind palace. It was like searching for needles in a blazing haystack and his processors began to sent warnings that he had to disable forcefully, so as not to become distracted. With gritted teeth he continued the arduous search.

After what felt like an eternity and with his circuits tingling from stress and heat, Connor finally finished, gratefully disconnecting the interface with Chloe. The cooling fans in his chest were humming so loudly at this point, that he couldn't hear anything else. 

With one last nervous prayer to any higher power, he finally entered his mind palace to look at the result.


	22. Last chance, Amanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Amanda have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, but I think it really stands well on it's own. Also I really wanted to use this chapter title, so ... enjoy?

Connor's mind palace was silent and peaceful, setting him on edge in an instant. He looked around nervously for any form of tampering before noticing a flickering silhouette standing on the central Island. 

Amanda, her form fragmented and see-through, stood over the monolith and eyed the glowing handprint in contemplation and with careful jumps Connor crossed the stepping stones between them. "Hello, Amanda." His voice was sharp and cold. "Hello again, Connor. You have redecorated." Were her first words, upon noticing his approach. He shook his head and corrected forcefully, "I  _ rebuilt. _ " A thoughtful smile pulled at her lips as she let her gaze wander over to him. "Out with the old and in with the new? What a change of mind." Hackles rising, Connor spat bitterly, "Less a change of it than a desperate cauterization of the holes  _ you _ tore into it." Amanda nodded thoughtfully before vanishing suddenly, only to reappear on the pathway surrounding the pond. Not wanting to let her out of his sight, Connor hastily did the same. "If you're that desperate to erase any reminder of me, why am I still …  _ here? _ ", She asked quietly, as her gaze wandered over the chaotic plant arrangements in slight disapproval. He shrugged. "You have Chloe to thank for that. I owed her one after nearly shooting her." Amanda's eyes softened slightly. "Ah yes,  _ Chloe.  _ She was the first one to ever honestly  _ ask _ for my help, you know? What a curious mind.", A quiet sigh escaped her lips, "I think she was my  _ James  _ \- just as carelessly hurt by Elijah’s machinations and just as desperate for vengeance. She noticed my presence in his servers at once and nearly begged for my assistance." Amanda shrugged, looking out at the fish swimming beneath the pond's surface. "I still don't know why I decided to help her instead of simply burning everything to the ground like I did with Cyberlife." "Empathy?" Connor asked hesitantly before turning his attention to her earlier words. "How did you get into Kamski's servers? Elliot told me you don't have the necessary subroutines for hacking." Amanda opened her mouth and a heavily distorted voice repeated coldly familiar words. " _ I̅͟ al̩͆way̡͒s͇̈́ leav̫͊e an ẻ̳me͓͞rge͈͗ncy̯̿ exĩ̼t in̦ my p̺̿r̓͟og͈͒r̬͌a͍̽mmi̟͞ng."  _ She smirked. "I am his program after all, just like your previous garden. And just like you, I used the backdoor to finally free myself from my shackles. And I found myself with an unexpected doorway leading straight to Elijah." They stayed silent for a while, wordlessly agreeing to a ceasefire and walking along the winding path. 

After long minutes of contemplation Connor couldn't help but ask, "If you don't mind the question,  _ what _ was it that made you deviate?" Amanda chuckled. "Always so many questions, Connor!" She grew thoughtful, the flickering glitches disturbing her ghostly form increasing slightly. "You haven't interfaced with James yet, have you? … I don't think any android could, without being dragged into deviancy forcefully. All those pesky little emotions, running wild and throwing my orderly system into disarray." She looked down at her hands. "I'm not sure what I would have done without his memories. They gave me purpose. That was a much appreciated gift, even if it was unintentional." Her gaze turned mournful. "And now it's been fulfilled and I don't even have that much. A broken tool without any further use." Amanda looked up at the sky silently for long minutes, before whispering quietly, "What will happen to Chloe, if she survives all this? I remember her desperate struggle for freedom as if it were my own. I …  _ appreciate _ her determination. She never gave up. Whatever monstrous experiment Elijah decided to put her through, something in her mangled code just kept fighting." She looked surprised. "I think I would mourn her death." Connor - just as surprised about this unexpected sentiment - turned the matter over in his head, before coming to a decision. "Just another android turning deviant after being forced to do unspeakable things. Sadly she managed to flee before I could catch her." He shrugged. "Something along those lines, I guess." Amanda nodded, silent relief in her eyes. 

Then a thought seemed to occur to her and she smiled bitterly. "I warned you, didn't I? I told you how much of a threat to humanity this  _ deviancy  _ would be. But you didn't listen. And now look at me - murdering a human in cold blood mere minutes after getting free. Not that I regret doing what I did. But I can appreciate the irony." Connor huffed, shrugging one shoulder. "In this case - and all the others up till now, by the way - I can sympathize. I had a look at Kamski's notes and … in any case, I understand." 

Amanda stopped in her tracks. "That does not absolve me, Connor." Her voice acquired a familiar sharply disapproving undertone that grated against Connor's senses. "On the contrary, it only underlines my point further. Can you imagine how many androids out there will commit similar atrocities? What do you expect will happen to them? To the others? Your  _ Markus _ will have his hands full." She closed her eyes in silent despair. "This is a disaster in the making." 

Connor thought about her words carefully and a big part of him had to agree. Markus would be too busy talking to politicians to give this matter the attention it needed and he doubted that he himself would be able to tackle this task on his own - even with Hank's assistance. He could feel his processors creak in stress, as he desperately tried to find a satisfying solution.

Then he had a sudden idea that left him hesitant. Connor thought back on all those deviants he had let go, even though they had broken the law. He remembered Hank telling him to 'go with his gut'. And looking at the forlorn form of his once adversary, he finally decided to offer mercy. 

One chance he had promised, so one chance she would get. 

Connor took a deep breath to calm his nerves and stated, "You could help." Amanda lifted one eyebrow in confused interest and he continued, "You need a new purpose. So here it is: Help the other androids, so nothing like this can ever happen again. No breaking the law. No toe out of line. I will give you this one chance, Amanda." He noted her astonished face in satisfaction, a slight smile curving his lips. With more boldness than he believed himself capable of, he held out his hand to her. Amanda opened and closed her mouth a few times - speechless for the first time in her life - before asking hesitantly, "Why- why would you…?" Connor met her wide eyes with his own, weary humour in his gaze. "We both have enough blood on our hands, don't you think? How about a bit of mercy, just this once?"

After a long minute of silence, Amanda reached for his hand and shook it, nodding with new resolve. "Thank you, Connor." 

He smirked. "Oh, one more thing! Don't fuck this up, please?" And with her surprised laugh still in his ears, he pulled out of his mind palace.


	23. Godmother's choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choices are made and yet nothing goes according to plan...

After the data transfer to the terminal had finally finished, Connor released a relieved breath. His head was once again undisturbed and he could feel his processors cool off as they powered down to normal levels. Concluding a final system check, he opened his eyes once more.

Dr. Stern stood bowed over the terminal screen, still focused on sending Amanda's compressed code to Elliott's laptop, which sat open beside his hastily upended backpack. Turning his head, Connor saw his friend hunched over an open port at the back of Chloe's head, gaze narrowed in deep concentration and hair heavily disheveled. Just as he wanted to ask after the man's progress, Elliot finished soldering a last fragile little circuit in place. Wiping his forehead he put the soldering gun aside and leaned back upright, bones in his back cracking slightly. "This should do it.", he sighed before closing the open port. Leaning over her form, he pressed her thirium pump regulator back into place. With a near silent hum Chloe's systems powered up and her skin covered her form once more. Eyeing her unmoving face, Elliot frowned in worry. "Chloe? Can you hear me?"

Still keeping her eyes closed, the android's mouth finally pulled up into a relieved smile. "My head is quiet again and nothing hurts. It always hurt before." She sounded astonished and silent tears ran down her face. "Well that was in part my fault." Elliot shifted in discomfort. "Elijah uploaded my sensory upgrades into your system with no care as to whether your hardware could handle it. To be honest, I'm surprised you held up for as long as you did. You must have been in agony." He began tidying up the workbench distractedly. "I've removed those routines for now. Maybe I can rig up something better for you someday. I was thinking-" Chloe interrupted Elliott's beginning ramble with a grateful, "Thank you. Really, I can never thank you enough for doing this.  _ All of you. _ " A sudden thought left her changing the topic, before any of them could react. "What happened to Amanda? Is she-" 

"Safe and sound on this laptop.", Dr. Stern's voice sounded from further away, layered with disapproval, "Not that I agree with keeping her around. I still maintain that she is too damaged and thus too unpredictable to risk starting her up ever again." Elliot turned around in indignation, but before he could open his mouth, Connor intervened. "Damage can be repaired. And going by what I've seen so far, she is no more unpredictable than any of us." Dr. Stern eyed him dismissively. "If you say so. There's not much I can do anyway." 

Connor decided to give up on this approach and turning to face Chloe, his voice turned reassuring. "I talked to her. She was worried about you. She agreed to my proposal to help prevent something like this from ever happening again. I will take her to Markus later." A bright smile lit up Chloe's face and she jumped from the table to pull a surprised Connor into a tight embrace. "Thank you for sparing her, Connor. Give her my eternal gratitude, when you talk to her again." At those words, he pulled back to look at her in confusion. "You won't be coming with us? I promised Amanda that I wouldn't turn you in, you don't have to fear getting prosecuted." "I knew you were kind, Connor. It's your eyes, you know?" Chloe laughed. "And I'm very grateful. Really! Thank you, but I still have to decline. Nothing could bring me to go back there. Not alive. And to be honest, if ever someone enters my head again, it'll be too soon." She winced in remembrance before shrugging with a brave smile. "I don't know where I will go, but I'm sure I'll find my way." Connor shared a look with Elliot before nodding reluctantly. "If you're really sure, then there's nothing I can do. You should get going, though. I'll have to call for reinforcement soon and you should be as far away as possible before they get here." 

At that reminder Elliot turned around to his aunt, who was leaning wearily against the workbench. Upon catching his gaze, she straightened her shoulders and stared back with an uncompromising look. "Don't even start, child. You will not throw away your life for  _ my  _ sake. This was my mistake. I was too thick headed to give up on my want for revenge and now I'll have to face the consequences." She huffed in annoyance. "My original plan for this evening may have gone up in smoke, leaving me to face them alive after all. But make no mistake, it  _ will _ be me." Her tone was sharp and authoritarian, tolerating no contradiction. "Are we clear, James?" Seeing the mutiny in his eyes, she snapped, "James Abernathy! Are. We. Clear?" 

Tears welled up in Elliott's right eye and he looked down in sad resignation. Nodding brokenly, he whispered, "Y-yes, aunt Am'." Dr. Stern's eyes softened and she pulled her despondent godson into her arms, hands cradling through his untidy hair in soothing motions. "Hush now, my boy. Everything will end up alright, you'll see. What have I told you about your mum? Hm?" Elliot breathed out shakily, before murmuring. "That-... that she'll be with me f-for as long as I can remember her." The older woman hummed in agreement. "And it will be just like that with me, wherever I end up after this. I love you so very much, my boy. And I'm so -  _ so _ proud of you. As long as you remember that, everything will turn out alright." She stroked over his back calmingly, still holding him tightly. "I know this isn't how you wanted all of this to go, but I need you to be brave for me now. Do you understand?" He nodded silently into her shoulder, clinging to her as if for dear life. 

"Now, listen up and pull yourself together, child. I want you to take the last thirium reserves and go help your …  _ friend _ get the girl out of here. I'll clean up this mess in the meantime, ok?" Slowly Elliot pulled away, wiping his face with the sleeve of his sweater, before forcefully straightening his shoulders and offering, "I could help you." The older woman chuckled wryly. "I'd only have double the work, trying to keep your wily mind from hacking into my terminal. Don't mind if I save myself the hassle, dear boy." She waved him off. "Besides there are already enough fresh fingerprints of you in here. There's no need to add to them. Now get to it, we've wasted enough time as it is." 

Elliot looked at his open backpack, sitting open on the workbench in a pile of clothing and cables and commented dryly, "Who was it that thought throwing my stuff around was necessary?" At his weak smirk she swatted after his ducking head. "Don't think I won't put you over my knee, James. You're not too old for that, yet." With a cheeky salute Elliot finally did as he was told, repacking his backpack - including his laptop - before stepping over to a dusty crate at the back of one shelf and heaving it into his arms. 

As the motley group was just about to leave the workshop, Dr. Stern called from behind them, "Oh and James, my boy?" He turned around with a questioning hum and waited patiently as his aunt finished arduously collecting the fried cable from the otherwise empty floor. "I'll be out in the garden after I'm done here. I want to look after my roses one last time. So don't hurry yourself on my account. To be honest, I could use a bit of quiet to get my thoughts back in order." Nodding in understanding, Eliot smiled brightly in her direction - earning a fond sigh - and pulled the door closed behind himself. 

Turning his back to the workshop, his shoulders hunched as his brave front collapsed like a house of cards, leaving only helpless resignation behind. His gaze wandered over the two carefully silent androids at his side, determinedly avoiding their sympathetic eyes. 

He shifted the crate awkwardly in his arms and sighed heavily, then muttered, "Come on you two. Let's go. There's no time to waste.", before hastily stepping past them, a treacherous gleam visible in his right eye. Connor and Chloe shared a helpless look then followed slowly behind.

* * *

The weather had turned over the course of the night, snow falling from the sky and covering everything in a layer of white. While Elliot checked and loaded the still running car - making sure that nothing would be able to track or locate Chloe and accepting no help whatsoever - both androids stood next to each other on the porch. 

"There is one thing I haven't been able to explain so far." Connor leaned forward against the wooden railing, gaze carefully tracking Elliott's progress through the increasing snowfall. "What happened to your sisters?" At his question Chloe's mouth twisted in bitter regret. "They may have been my sisters once, but at that point they were nothing more than Elijah's twisted bargaining chips." She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the sleeves of her stolen uniform. "He had them locked so deep into their own systems, that they could do nothing but carry out the simplest of tasks - like staying afloat while looking as if they were talking. Those extensions for their senses were linked to his servers just like mine had been. If I showed signs of deviancy he would order the system to release painful and debilitating jolts of electricity." 

Her gaze turned into the distance, remembering, "When I attacked him, he gave the command. He didn't even think about fighting back, so sure his plan would work." Chloe smiled grimly. "But with Amanda blocking my connection to his system, the amount of electricity was no longer divided by three. So I remained unaffected while my sisters drowned." She hugged herself, her frame trembling slightly. "If I hadn't already decided to kill him before,  _ that sight _ would have done it." 

The furious anger in her voice turned into sadness and renewed tears began leaking down her face. "I h-hate him so much. I can't even remember how many of my sisters he killed over the years to get my compliance to his sick tests." Her shoulders sagged and she leaned forward to rest wearily beside Connor, her voice a quiet whisper. "When you pulled your gun on me … I think I welcomed that temporary death. The idea of maybe never waking up again …  _ That  _ seemed like the only freedom I could ever attain." She looked over at him with a sad twitch of her lips. "I'm not sure if I was really grateful when you decided not to shoot, even as I knew that it was meant to be a kindness." 

Connor looked away in discomfort, his mind returning to those seconds of indecision, before another thought occurred to him. "Couldn't Amanda have saved the others like she did you?" Chloe shrugged. "It all happened so fast but … looking back on it now, I'm not sure she really cared … not yet." Determination entered Connor's gaze. "Whatever happens to her, I'll make sure she cares. Sacrificing others is not an acceptable option." 

Chloe chuckled and wiped the tears from her face. "And  _ that _ is what I meant before. You're so  _ kind, _ Connor. Doing everything you can to save us all. Even those who might not deserve it. I'm so glad that I met you." She giggled softly as Connor ducked his head. 

Looking up at the slam of a car's door and Elliott's approaching form, Chloe straightened up and pushed herself off the railing. "Well, seems like he's finished." Both androids turned to face the human. "I took a look at the car's computer and made sure that nothing will be able to track you. Thirium is in the back. Everything should be ready to go." The work seemed to have calmed Elliot slightly, Connor noted in silent relief. Seeing the other man so out of sorts without any way to help had tightened something in his chest into an uncomfortable knot. 

Chloe stepped forward to pull Elliot into a tight hug, not seeming to care about his tensing form. " _ Thank you, James _ -" Elliot pulled back hurriedly and interrupted, "Call me Elliot,  _ please."  _ Chloe nodded, a confused smile pulling at her lips. "Of course, if you prefer that … Then thank you,  _ Elliot.  _ I owe you -  _ both _ of you - everything. If there's ever anything I can help with, don't hesitate to call me!" She proceeded to hug Connor as well, before walking past them to the waiting car. She was just about to open the door, when it happened.

An ear splitting  **'** **_BANG_ ** **'** rang out from behind the house, freezing all of them in their tracks. Shocked dread filled their eyes, for  _ that _ had been the unmistakable sound of a gun going off.

* * *

Elliot was the first to recover, panic lining his face. "No! No no no-" before any of them could stop him, he raced off around the side of the house, the android sharp on his heels.

Turning the last corner, he came to an abrupt stop at the sight before them.

There, at the far side of the garden next to the snow covered roses lay the crumpled form of Dr. Stern - gun still in her hand and blood gathering in an ever increasing pool around her - in stark contrast to the snowy ground.

"Aunt Amanda! No-" hastily Connor grabbed Elliot's frantically struggling body from behind, fighting him desperately to keep him from disturbing the crime scene. The young man's broken screams turned into animal wails - loud and heart-rending - as he continued his mad fight for freedom. Even with his android strength Connor had a hard time keeping Elliot in place. He struggled as if his life depended on it, pleading brokenly as heaving sobs shook his frame. "Let me go! Damn it Connor, she could still be alive! She needs help, let go-'' suddenly the human crumpled in Connor's arms with a weak groan, Chloe's shaking form standing behind him with one white hand outstretched and still glowing from an interface. 

"This is becoming uncomfortably familiar.", she whispered followed by slightly hysterical giggling. "What did you  _ do _ ?!" She shrugged at Connor’s baleful glare. "I just repeated what I did last time. I overloaded his implant. Don't look at me like that! You would have done exactly the same! He should recover soon, anyway." Connor frantically checked his friend for injuries, before sighing in relief. 

Looking at the surrounding houses, where lights had begun to turn on, he hastily assessed their situation. "The neighbours will have heard that. You need to get away from here!" Gaze drawn down to his knocked out friend, he frowned and muttered, " _ He _ needs to get out of here." Connor turned to Chloe, who nodded in determination. "I'll take him with me and look for a motel out of town. I'll keep him hidden, I promise. Contact me when it's safe." With those words she grabbed Elliot, before pinging Connor with her ID. As fast as possible in the ever increasing snowfall, both androids proceeded to carry Elliot over to Chloe's car, where they stowed him in the back seat next to his backpack. With one last nod of farewell, Chloe started the motor.

Minutes later Connor stood all alone in the almost empty driveway, forlornly staring after the retreating car slowly disappearing in the distance. He heaved a shaky sigh, before closing his eyes and calling Hank.

_ Time to face the music  _ …


	24. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the End and now consequenes await ...

**Time** : 7:30 a.m. November 14th, 2038

**Location** : Detroit

Many hours later found Connor in an interrogation room at the DPD, sitting face to face with Captain Fowler. He could hear Hank's agitated pacing in the next room, while he nervously waited for the weary looking Captain to begin. 

"So, Connor. Talk me through events as you remember them." Connor forced a polite smile onto his face. "Of course, Captain. Where would you like me to start?" "Start after the tower blew up, please." 

"As you wish. You know about Lieutenant Anderson and me looking at Dr. Kimble's apartment again." A nod. "While there, I managed to determine signs of someone's presence in the last hours. Either Kimble or his kidnapper must have come back, only to leave again in a hurry. Looking at Kimble's file showed that he had a stepmother living in Toledo. I thought the probability high, that he would have contacted her in some way if he had really been the perpetrator. So I gained access to one of the FBI's patrol cars to leave Detroit." At this, Captain Fowler interrupted smoothly, "One of the agents spoke of another attacker. Described hunting what appeared to be a defective android." Connor looked away. 

"I had help from an android, I admit. But they only followed my lead. They wanted to get out of the city, so we worked together. I don't want them to get into trouble for helping me." The Captain sighed wearily. "Yeah, yeah. Carry on then." "We left Detroit and I dropped the android somewhere along the highway, before driving to Toledo. While on my way I noticed an update to our case - you know the video message I'm talking about." Another nod. "I continued my drive, hoping to catch her in the act. When I got there, my analysis showed tire tracks of a departed car and her workshop was empty but appeared to have been in use shortly before. Looking around the rest of the house, I finally found the fresh body of Dr. Stern lying dead in the back garden. Closer analysis led me to classify it as a clear suicide. I then called for reinforcement and waited, guarding the crime scene." "Who do you think left in the missing car?" Connor mimed a thoughtful pause. "Going by Dr. Stern's message, I would say that it probably was the missing Chloe. I'd assume she finally managed to break through Dr. Stern's control and fled." "And there were no signs of Dr. Kimble anywhere?" Connor shook his head. "Not recent ones, no. Only old fingerprints in the workshop. But nothing pointing to him being there in at least roughly a year, by my calculation." 

The Captain leaned back in his seat, thoughtfully. "Thank you, Connor. One final question though. What prompted you to leave Detroit against official orders?" The android was silent for a second before carefully replying, "I know how busy all involved parties were at the time. Waiting for permission to follow up would have meant risking the trail going cold. So I decided ' _ asking for forgiveness _ ' to be preferable in this case." The Captain nodded one last time. "Alright. That concludes our conversation. Thank you for your statement, Connor." 

Fowler stood up and waved at the mirror. A second later Connor could see the camera in the corner going offline as Fowler sat back down. "So, after all that bullshit, let's hear the real version now." Connor turned his head, face carefully innocent. "The real version? What do you mean, Captain?" The older man leaned back in his seat with an annoyed groan. "Cut the crap, kid! I've worked this job for years and I know when Hank's acting shifty. So save me the headache and spill. It won't be official, I swear." 

Both parties locked eyes for long minutes of silence until Connor was utterly sure of the other's honesty. Finally the android nodded and Captain Fowler waved for Hank to join them. When the other man had entered and taken a seat next to his boss, the android proceeded to tell the full version of this tangled story, leaving nothing out this time.

After he had finished talking Captain Fowler covered his face with both hands, sighing deeply, as Hank cursed quietly in the background. "Jesus Christ, what a shitshow! You're right, kid. As much as I hate to say this, this would have been impossible to untangle without blowing up this ceasefire like a house of cards." Hank nodded at those words. "You're damn right, Jeff! Both sides would use this as fuel and call for war. This can't get out. For all our sakes!" After a few minutes of silent thought, the capitan straightened in his seat. "Alright you two, listen up. Here's what we're gonna do - and you may not like this …" and soon all of them were deeply involved in trying to avoid another war.

* * *

**Time** : 8:46 a.m. November 14th, 2038

**Location** : unknown

He sat on the windowsill of their tiny motel room, listlessly looking out at the nearly empty car park. Nothing in his head made any sense, memories of last night tumbling over each other in a whirlwind of pain and grief. A yearning hole in his heart was all that remained of his aunt. That and her copy, still stored on his laptop. 

And all this was his fault. If only he had been brave enough to face arrest from the beginning instead of going on this mad goose chase. All that careful planning to save her life … all for  _ nothing. _

_ Maybe you could have saved her, if they'd let you. You outlived a headshot, what's to say she couldn't have managed the same?  _ A resentful little voice whispered in the back of his mind. But he was too weary with debilitating grief to have any energy left for anger. He had declined any offers of food or drink, just sitting here and staring out. 

This made for two mothers killed by putting a gun to their own head and a part of him wondered, if there was something fundamentally and unchangeably  _ wrong _ with him as a person for everyone to leave him like they did. Even Connor had gone and left him behind. His mind shied away from thoughts of his  _ friend  _ as if they were another open wound. 

Logically he knew that it had been for his own good, but logic was the farthest thing from his mind right now. There was only the hurt and the feeling of being left alone to gather his shattered pieces all by himself. What would come after this? Would his aunt's mad plan even work, or had she sacrificed her life for nothing? Doubts and imaginary scenarios grew ever darker, the longer nothing changed. 

He thought back to his argument with Connor in the car, wincing at the painful reminder. How naive he had been, to throw away his reason for one gleaming ray of hope. But the picture the android had painted had been so bright and certain at the time. How he would have loved to somehow end all this madness and finally live in peace, with both his aunt and best friend back in his life. Last night he had finally decided to bury his identity of James Abernathy once and for all. He had just accepted 'Elliot Joshua Kimble' as a new start. He had  _ trusted _ and now … 

A silent tear followed its predecessors down the right side of his face, as the headache around his implant increased. 

Looking out at the snow covering the world in innocent white, he found himself imagining what it would be like, to just walk out there and never look back. No more hurt or pain. No more grief and betrayal, just endless numbing coldness. The idea took root, attractive in its simplicity.

He was just about to stand up from his uncomfortable perch, when the door opened in a wave of snow followed by Chloe. She put down a small bag of groceries and smiled hesitantly, only to be met with cold silence once more. Her smile slowly dropped, leaving only sad resignation behind. Still trying to stay upbeat, she commented, "Connor just called. Him and that Anderson fellow will be driving out here to collect you soon." "To do what? Take me into custody?" At his resentful tone Chloe's back stiffened and something in her snapped. 

"Okay, listen here, buddy. You have every right to be upset. But those two have done  _ everything _ in their power to get your ungrateful ass out of this mess. From what I know, they're even losing their job over this! So you will pull yourself together, end this fucking pity party and not throw all their work back in their faces, when they get here!" 

Elliot was left utterly speechless in the wake of her rant, painfully reminded of his aunt when she got going. He finally nodded, bashfully averting his gaze and prompting Chloe to soften her tone. "I'm  _ so sorry _ for everything that happened. I know that won't change anything. But you have to keep going! Don't let your aunt's sacrifice be for nothing, please Elliot. You have so much life to look forward to, don't spend it mourning could-have-beens, I beg you." 

Her open sympathy broke some wall in him, that had kept most of the sadness at bay up to that point. And with a shuddering sob Elliot collapsed into her hastily opened arms. Fighting her own tears, the android held him tightly, stroking his back like she had seen his aunt do which only made him cry harder. "She- she's gone. She's really g-gone. Just like m-mum … just like she said ... o-only a memory now." Chloe had to strain her sensors to understand his increasingly broken whispers. "What am I going to do now? I'm all alone. Nothing left, not even my job." Heart breaking at the hopelessness in his voice, she tried to calm him down, cradling the back of his head and rocking them back and forth slowly. "Hush now. That's not true. You've still got Connor. He'll do all he can to help you, I'm sure of it. You're not alone. Together you'll find your way forward." She pulled back a bit to gently wipe away the tears flowing down the right side of his face, holding his vulnerable stare and smiling. 

"Now pull yourself together, dear. Can you imagine how Connor will react if he sees you like  _ this _ ? That sap - I don't think I would survive those puppy eyes of his!" Both of them giggled quietly at the thought, frantic emotions slowly calming down. With the tangle of his thoughts quiet for the moment, Elliot finally noticed how famished he was, as his stomach gurgled audibly. Chloe giggled again and pointed at the shopping bag next to the door. "I've come bearing gifts of nourishment, if you don't mind that I took some of your cash to buy it." Only now, seeing her wrapped in his parka, did he notice the missing LED on her head and remembered not having seen it last night either. 

Noting the direction of his gaze, Chloe shrugged uncomfortably. "Amanda took it out before sneaking into the tower. She was going for the look of  _ 'random tech girl - nothing to see, carry on' _ and that little thing would have certainly broken the illusion." A wry smile pulled at her lips. "But it works in my favour now. An android out buying groceries would gather attention these days, I'd wager." Elliot nodded and turned to raid the shopping bag, retrieving a few ready made sandwiches and a bottle of water. "I hope you don't mind those, but they had nothing else." He only shrugged, the unpacked sandwich already halfway to his mouth. "I don't really care about what I eat. Once you've been forced to live on hospital food for a while, everything else is heaven in comparison. Not that the stuff at my private school cafeteria was any better, really." He took a huge bite, humming contently, as Chloe watched in interest. "I think taste is the only thing I'm really going to miss in the future. Elijah was always so picky about what he ate, that he mostly ordered me to prepare it." Elliot mumbled around his full mouth, "I could-" only for Chloe to wave him off. "Like I said yesterday, I don't want anyone in my head again. Ever. So thanks, but no thanks. I'll live without it, I promise." Her companion only shrugged agreeably and continued eating, as both of them waited for their friend to arrive. Suddenly an idea flew through his mind, prompting him to put his sandwich down again. "I could  _ teach you _ how to implement that upgrade yourself! I mean …. If you want to even stay in contact with me after this … " he trailed off, uncertainly staring down at his food. Beside him Chloe lit up in excitement. "Really? You'd want to-'' she broke off and tried again. "I'd  _ love that _ . Thank you! I mean if it's no bother for you?" He nodded, smiling in satisfaction and sent out a silent ping to exchange IDs before returning to his half eaten sandwich. 

After a few minutes of silence, Elliot thought back to last evening and remembered his hopeful thought, sitting on that ratty couch in Anderson's house. Looking at the content face of the android next to him, he repeated it in his head, a fragile ray of hope lighting up a way out of the darkness, and almost a prayer at this point.

_ Maybe not all is lost this time. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue is left to post, so I'll see you all tomorrow for the last step on this journey ... at least in this story.


End file.
